


Keeping Touch

by Vamphile



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-06
Updated: 2007-01-06
Packaged: 2018-12-26 19:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12065829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vamphile/pseuds/Vamphile
Summary: Part of the “Keeping” series. Stands Alone as a fic.All you need to know is that it’s approx. 11 years after Brian meets Justin that night under the streetlight. Justin has a gay half brother named Aaron. Brian and Justin live in NY now. They still own the loft and Brian still owns Babylon, which is up and running. Ted Runs KinnetiK PA, Cynthia relocated, at great cost to Brian, to NY. Mostly, it’s just, them, a few years later.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Banner by LJ user Xnickstax

comments and feedback here or at my LJ 

* * *

  
  


* * *

## Keeping Touch

## Chapter One   


* * *

Brian heard the phone rattle against the nightstand. He picked it up and mumbled into the mouthpiece. His other hand was pinned to the bed underneath Justin’s waist. He tried to pull it free but Justin simply moved closer to him. He tried to focus. 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Brian.”

 

“Lindsay, what’s wrong? Fuck what time is it?” He glanced at the clock, almost four. “Gus?” His heart stopped.

 

“Brian Gus is fine…”

 

“Shit, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

 

“Brian, I’m fine. Gus is fine…”

 

“Jenny?”

 

“Brian.” He heard the strain in Lindsay’s voice. 

 

“It’s four in the morning.”

 

“Brian, it’s… Debbie.”

 

“She called you at four in the morning? Was she drunk?”

 

“Brian, Debbie's gone.”

 

He sat up quickly. Justin frowned in his sleep at the loss of contact and body heat. Brian pulled the duvet back up over Justin’s shoulders. He watched as he snuggled under it further until just a small thatch of blonde hair was visible. Brian lit a cigarette and focused on Lindsay again. “Gone?”

 

“She’s… she and Carl are… they died yesterday.”

 

Brian’s hand gripped the phone a little harder. “How?”

 

“They’re not sure.”

 

“I’m heading out. Do me a favor, call, let them know I’ll be there by ten.”

 

“Brian I don’t think…”

 

“Just call them. You need a ride?”

 

“I’m flying out tomorrow…later today. I’ll be in Pittsburgh by three.”

 

“See you then. Fuck, Gus…”

 

“I don’t think he really knows what’s going on yet.”

 

“I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

 

“I know. Brian, drive carefully.”

 

“You too.”

 

“I’m flying.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Brian hung up the phone distractedly. He pulled on a pair of jeans and grabbed his suitcase out of the back of the closet. He mentally went through his calendar and what he knew of Justin’s. The show wasn’t for five weeks. He could afford a few days in The Pitts. He packed several pairs of jeans and some of Justin’s less paint covered shirts. He thought about the studio above Babylon and included a few paint-covered items as well. 

 

He looked for his black suit, and realized it was probably at the loft. He found Justin’s darkest gray suit and was packing it when Justin sat up, yawning loudly.

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

 

Justin watched out of the corner of his eye as Brian packed. He wasn’t quite registering anything yet. Jeans, t-shirts, a suit, a pair of dress pants. He sat up when Brian pulled his charcoal gray Zegna suit out of the closet. “Brian, that’s my suit.”

 

Brian nodded and seemed to consider it for a moment longer before he zipped it into the suit carrier. 

 

“Brian, where am I going?”

 

Brian looked up. “We’re going to Pittsburgh.”

 

“Oh shit, what happened?”

 

Brian stared at Justin blankly. Justin knew it was something bad. Brian wanted to lie. He was biting his bottom lip. Justin moved across the bed closer to him, eyeing the clothes in the suitcase. “These are all mine. Are you coming too?”

 

Brian nodded. “Most of my fall stuff is still in Pittsburgh.”

 

“Right. What happened?”

 

“Go take a shower. We’ve gotta get on the road.”

 

“We’re driving?”

 

“We might be there for a while. Pack your laptop, and figure out what you need to bring with you if you’re still working on shit for the show.”

 

“I’ve got what I need at the Pittsburgh studio. How long are we gonna be there?” Justin’s heart was racing. Brian wouldn’t say what had happened, it must be bad… and he was about to bite through his lip. “Brian.”

 

“Go shower. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

 

“Pack my socks, the loft is freezing this time of year.”

 

Brian nodded and Justin frowned. Brian hated those socks. He should be putting up a fight. He turned the water on and when it was a reasonable temperature stepped under the spray. He showered quickly, his mind racing with what they might be about to face.

 

He was drying off when Brian handed him a pair of jeans. 

 

“I can dress myself.”

 

“Let’s get moving.”

 

Justin didn’t say another word as he loaded his messenger back with his computer, phone, ipod, and a sketchbook. 

 

He watched Brian load the car silently. He climbed into the jeep and buckled his seatbelt. Brian lit them each a cigarette and turned the radio on. They were well out of the city and heading towards Pittsburgh. They hadn’t spoken in almost two hours. 

 

Brian handed him a sixth cigarette and Justin took it. Too worried about what he didn’t know to consider the fact that they were both supposed to quit. Brian had bought a carton when he’d filled the tank with gas. Justin was biting his own lip now.

 

“Brian.”

 

Brian looked towards him.

 

“What happened?”

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

Brian navigated his way out of the city, stocking up on gas, cigarettes and those cheese filled combos things that Justin liked to eat when they took long drives. Justin had stopped asking and he was relieved. It was better like this. The worry had to be better than the knowing. Let him have that safety, that innocence for a few more minutes. He’d tell him. He’d tell him before they got there because fuck if anyone else was going to do it. He’d tell Justin, but he needed time. 

 

Besides, if he didn’t say it… well, then maybe Justin didn’t ever have to find out. Maybe it was a horrible mistake, or a really pathetic attempt by the lot of them to get him to talk to Michael. He nodded to himself and lit another cigarette. This was probably just that, a really cruel way to get back at him for not speaking to Michael in so long. But… they knew he’d tell Justin… but they were angry with Justin too. Maybe this was aimed at the both of them. Maybe Justin was in on it, knew that he thought Debbie was gone and was playing along. The kid could be a good liar when he wanted to be.

 

Justin's voice broke through the fog of thought. “Brian what happened?”

 

He sounded scared, and exasperated, but then that could be an act. Then again… Brian inhaled sharply.

 

“Lindsay called.”

 

“Oh my god. Gus?”

 

“Gus is fine…”

 

“Is Lindsay okay? Why are we going to Pittsburgh if Lindsay’s hurt? Oh shit…JR?”

 

“Jenny’s fine. Lindsay’s fine…”

 

“So why did you pack my suit?”

 

“Debbie died.” Shit… he’d meant to… no, he hadn’t. There were no words for this but the truth.

 

“What? How?”

 

“They don’t know, or didn’t say. Debbie and Carl, both gone, so we’ll find out in a couple of hours.”

 

Justin pulled out his phone. “Fuck that.”

 

Brian put it down. “Don’t. They’ve got enough going on… we’ll find out when we get there.”

 

“But…”

 

“Justin… don’t.”

 

Justin threw his cigarette out the window and started to play with the radio buttons. “This is probably some stupid lie so we’ll talk to them.”

 

Brian laughed. “Yeah. In which case we’ll kill them.”

 

“So either way, Debbie’s dead.”

 

Brian laughed again and Justin joined him. “That would be actual irony, faking her own death being the cause of it.”

 

“But they’d have to understand the concept of irony to appreciate it.”

 

“Oh, then we’re gonna be the only ones laughing.”

 

Brian laughed harder. 

 

“You think she and Michael are pacing around in her living room wondering when we’re gonna show?”

 

“I think Ben and Carl are trying to talk some sense into them.”

 

“But they think they’ve got a plan worthy of the master.”

 

“No such thing.”

 

“Pfft. Fuck, Brian, did you leave a note for Aaron?”

 

“Yeah, on the fridge and one on his phone voice mail. He’ll know soon enough.”

 

“He’s gonna be so pissed if she’s faking it.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“Wow, if she and Carl died Debbie's gonna hate the funeral.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“All those cops, in dress blues, all that attention on Carl. Maybe they should be on separate days so no one steals her thunder.”

 

“Maybe they should be in separate cemeteries. Wait, I think they are. Wouldn’t Carl get buried next to his first wife?”

 

“Deb’ll come back from the grave, dig him up and plant him next to her. Or Michael will do it for her.”

 

“Shit… this is too surreal.”

 

“Can something be _too_ surreal?”

 

“Only in our fucked up family. What the fuck? It had to be a car accident if they’re both gone right?”

 

“We don’t really know anything yet. Let’s wait 'til we get there.”

 

Justin hit Brian in the arm. “Punch buggy yellow.”

 

“Jesus Christ, you’re not five.”

 

“I’m bored.”

 

“Go to sleep.”

 

“Not tired.”

 

“Shouldn’t have bought you that coffee.”

 

“I needed it so I can drive second shift. Speaking of which...”

 

Brian sped up and passed the yellow Volkswagen bug. He hit Justin’s arm. “Punch buggy yellow.”

 

“You can’t do it to the same car.”

 

“You can if you’re the driver and you pass it.”

 

“You’re making up rules.”

 

“Okay, use your handy wireless Internet connection and look up the official rules to ‘punch buggy’.” 

 

“Stop being retarded. There are no official rules, and stop trying to avoid the part where it’s my turn to drive.”

 

“Not avoiding, ignoring.”

 

“Whatever. Pull over I have to take a piss.”

 

“All that coffee.”

 

“And it’s almost seven in the morning. You’ve gotten a whopping three hours of sleep. Pull the fuck over.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Sure we can do that too, now pull over.”

 

Brian pulled into the first rest stop they found. He followed Justin into the men’s room.

 

“Not here. In the car.” Justin was tucking himself back in after using the urinal. “Because this place is gross.”

 

Brian couldn’t help but agree. There was a light drizzle outside, the floors were damp, the walls were gray, cold to the touch, and felt slightly damp as well. He nodded and Justin washed his hands and left. Brian finished up and by the time he got to the car Justin was in the back seat, the suitcase had been piled on top of the other seat and Justin was fully reclined. He smiled up at Brian who climbed on top of him and pulled the back door shut.

 

“Hi.”

 

Brian kissed him hard. “Hi.”

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*

 

Justin’s POV

 

This is so unbelievably fucking insane. She’s having other people tell us she’s dead just so we’ll talk to her? That has to be it. Debbie’s… she’s too… loud. She’s too loud to die. 

 

What the fuck is Brian gonna do if she’s…but she’s not. She’s just not. So this is fine. We needed to get back to Pittsburgh. It’s been a while and no, the timing’s not perfect. My mother hasn’t even checked out of her hotel in the city yet. Ted and Blake were going to spend a longer than long weekend in New York. If she’s telling the truth…um… I guess if it’s true she’s not saying anything… but if Brian… if she’s gone before Brian got to say goodbye, got to work shit out… really, he was gonna work shit out with her…right?

 

Fuck, I can’t think about it. It’s too hard to comprehend…and speaking of hard. Brian’s pulling my jeans off and his mouth is on my neck and then back on my mouth. He’s… he’s sucking the air out of my body. I love when he does that. I kind of hate when he does that, it’s part of this game he plays, but right now… I’ll let him play. I’ll let him use my energy for his own. He’s got to be running low on energy. We just got past all that other bullshit and now this… c’mon, how much can one guy take?

 

He’s pulling my shirt over my head. The windows are mostly steamed up at this point, and it’s drizzling out, threatening to become real rain any moment, and I’m shivering. This is a quick fuck, in the back of the car, at a rest stop…why exactly do I need to be naked? His hands are sort of everywhere and then I remember…right…so his hands can be everywhere. Okay.

 

I lean my head back and just let him touch me. It feels good, better than good. I’m pulling him closer but he sits up, he pushes the arms of the seat up and pulls me on top of him. I drape my legs over his thighs and he lifts me up and lowers me onto him. His arms are around me, one over my shoulder now and one around my waist, meeting in the middle of my back. He’s holding me close, inside and out. I clench my muscles around him and he moans into my neck so I do it again. My head’s on his shoulder. He’s not letting me go. We start to move together. A slow rocking, back and forth. He lifts one thigh a little, angling inside me and still rocking with me. We’re locked in this rhythm, in this embrace. It’s fine. There’s no place else either of us want to be right now. 

 

I know we should be… no… this is where we should be… this is what we should be doing. The soft cotton of his shirt against my chest is nice but I want his skin against mine. I try to pull back a little, to slide my hands under his shirt but he holds tighter and for the first time I panic a little… maybe she’s not faking it.

 

He kisses me again. He can’t seem to stop. I don’t want him to. I don’t want to think about what we will or won’t find out in a couple of hours when we get to Pittsburgh. I don’t want to think about the fact that I’m not sure where we’re headed first. The loft? Deb’s house? Michael and Ben’s? Who the fuck knows? I just want this. So I hold him tighter and I whisper his name and he starts moving faster, rocking with me. We’re both close. My hard cock is pressed tight against his stomach, he’s moving inside me now and I’m working him. I feel him start to let go. His head falls backwards and he’s grunting and now he’s sweating a little and I’m kneading his back with my hands and my toes dig into the carpet on the floor and I use the leverage to lift up and lower myself again and again, and then we’re both coming. The only sound is our breathing. The air’s not chilly anymore. I’m not cold anymore. We’re surrounded by the heat and smell of ourselves and if I’d gotten more than four hours of sleep, if I hadn’t eaten a hundred pounds of food last night, if we weren’t heading back to Pittsburgh because of the possibility that Debbie’s gone… I’d be hard again… but I haven’t, I did, we are, so I’m not. 

 

He helps me off of him and I start to pull my jeans on. He opens the door an inch to toss the used condom and the fresh cold wet air hits me. I pull my shirt back on and grab the sweatshirt I’d grabbed earlier. I put that on too and move towards the drivers seat.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Fuck you. That was the deal.”

 

“No deal, you had to piss. You did. I fucked you. I’m driving.”

 

“Go to sleep.” He’s too tired to keep driving. I’m wired now. I’m fine. We need to get there. I need to kill Debbie for doing this to us.

 

He’s shaking his head but I’m adjusting the seat and the steering wheel. He’s shaking his head but I’m ignoring him. He gives up and sits in the passenger seat, his jeans back on. His expression inscrutable. 

 

We drive in silence for another hour or so, and I’m fine with that. What’s left to say? Deb better be dead or I’m going to kill her.

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Brian’s POV

 

 

I want to say something to him but there’s nothing to say, not until I know what the fuck is going on. My phone’s on silent. I glance at it. Four messages. Ted, Lindsay, Michael, Michael. None from Deb. Must be killing her not to call me and find out how upset I am. Fuck, unless… this could be real.

 

He’s talking about something. I half tune in. It’s the work for the new show. I try to pay attention but he’s not really talking to me. He’s filling the space. He’s keeping his mind off of it. He’s focusing on the work he has to do. Can’t blame him. I just had a great idea for Grand Hospitalities. Came to me while I was fucking him. Happens a lot. Shouldn’t. Does. I grab his sketchbook and make a few notes. He glances at me and is still talking. I don’t think he’s expecting me to listen.

 

We go under the tunnel and then we’re in Pittsburgh. We’re at a red light and he looks at me questioningly. Straight ahead, we’re going to the loft. Right, we’re heading towards Debbie's, left…Michael’s. I motion right. He takes a shaky breath.

 

The cars are lined up in front of the house. Michael and Ben’s hybrid piece of shit. Carl’s refurbished cop car. The little purple bubble that Michael and Carl got together and bought for Debbie last year for her birthday, a huge fucking SUV that I have to assume is Melanie’s… I can’t believe after all that bullshit she moved back to Pittsburgh when Lindsay moved to New Jersey. I shake my head and Justin pulls in behind Mel’s car. They’re obviously faking it… Deb and Carl’s cars are still here.

 

I get out and stretch for a minute. It’s starting to really rain now. Justin takes my hand. He’s not as sure as I am that this is a really tasteless joke. We walk up the steps and for a moment I’m gripped with serious doubt. I can’t just walk in… I used to be able to… not anymore. I lift my hand to knock but Justin beats me to it and pushes the door open.

 

They’re not faking it.

 

Michael’s eyes are red. Ben is holding him. Hunter is here… I thought he’d moved to Chicago or something. Melanie is coming down the steps. Her face looks pale. She looks tired. The house is missing something. I look around and realize what it is…Debbie.

 

Michael sees me. He stands up hesitantly and I take a step forward. I pull him towards me. Asshole? Yeah, we both were, both are. Brothers? That too. The rest doesn’t matter right now. He starts to cry. I look up and catch Ben’s eye. I give him a questioning look. He stands up and moves closer.

 

“We don’t know much. They think the water heater was faulty.”

 

He’s not making any sense. Michael pulls out of my embrace but he doesn’t move far. He leans against the back of the sofa. Ben continues.

 

“Carbon monoxide. They went in their sleep. We…Michael and I, found them yesterday. We were coming to help with Dinner.”

 

A thousand questions run through my head, and they narrow down to one. “YESTERDAY?” How the fuck has Debbie been dead for twenty-four hours and I’m just finding out about it?

 

“We um…” Ben seems to see the question in my glare.

 

“We… called the paramedics, and then of course the police and fire department came. We were all in shock and by the time anyone realized you didn’t know it was after midnight. We called Lindsay, she said she’d tell you.”

 

I nod, not good enough, not nearly good enough but it doesn’t fix a damn thing. I sit down on the sofa and Justin follows me. He’s hung up his coat. He’s trying to take mine. Michael is trying to serve us cake. It’s ten thirty in the morning. I haven’t slept and Debbie’s dead. Now is NOT the time for carbs. I take the cake and the beer and I don’t say a word. I’m not sure what to say.

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

Justin fidgeted, smashing the cake down with his fork, then putting the plate aside and slowly peeling the label off the beer bottle. He really wanted some breakfast but now seemed like a bad time. They could go to the diner. Debbie would… fuck. It was… fuck, they weren’t making it up.

 

He picked up the cake and started to spread the mashed confection evenly across the plate. He glanced over at Brian. Brian was watching Michael carefully. He’d seen them hug. Brian had even kissed him. Was that it? A year and a half of not talking to each other and now it’s all forgotten?

 

Justin hoped so. He doubted it. He looked up when he heard his name. 

 

“Hmm?”

 

Ben was looking at him. “When do you have to be back in New York?”

 

“Um, my show’s right after new year’s so… um, I guess we have to go home next week. I guess we’ll go home after the funeral.”

 

Michael dropped something and the sound of breaking glass startled everyone.

 

Ben headed to the kitchen and Brian looked over at Justin. “You okay?”

 

“Shut the hell up.”

 

Brian nodded. “Loft?”

 

Justin nodded and Brian said their goodbyes. Justin handed him the keys and they drove silently towards the loft.

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

Justin was naked and in bed. Brian was still walking around the upstairs in circles. Brian always reminded Justin of a dog when they first got back to the loft. He circled around as if trying to find a comfortable spot. He knew that wasn’t the real reason. Brian was looking for damage, seeing what needed upkeep or repair. He knew that wasn’t the _real_ reason either. The real reason was probably a combination of the two. But once he was satisfied he could relax.

 

Brian poured himself a scotch and sat at the table. Justin sat up. “Go to sleep.”

 

“Come to bed.”

 

“Not tired.”

 

“We’ve got the wake tomorrow for Carl. Debbie's funeral on Saturday, and god only knows what else. You’ve barely slept.”

 

Brian downed his drink quickly and peeled off his clothes. He was about to slide under the covers when he cursed and pulled his clothes back on. Justin looked at him questioningly.

 

“Left the luggage in the car.”

 

Justin only nodded. They could have a ten minute discussion about how it was unnecessary to go get it…and then Brian would get it anyway, or he could just let Brian go get the luggage and unpack.

 

He put his head down and when he opened his eyes again Brian was snoring into his neck and it was three in the afternoon. He sat up and stretched. Brian’s arm was flung over his thighs and he didn’t feel the need to move. They stayed like that for almost half an hour before Brian woke up also.

 

“You get us all unpacked?”

 

“Yeah, if I didn’t you’d have had to have your suit pressed before the funeral. We should probably fly Aaron in, he’s gonna want to be here.”

 

“I’ll call my mom. They can fly together.”

 

“Aaron can fly on his own.”

 

“So can my mother but someone has to tell both of them.”

 

“I guess someone does.”

 

“Who _does_ know?”

 

Brian shrugged. “They left it to Lindsay to tell the NY contingent. She should be in any minute. 

 

“Where’s she staying?”

 

“With us I guess. Gus's room and the guest room.”

 

“Yeah, I guess so. Christ…”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Justin…”

 

“I just… it’s like we’re never alone anymore.”

 

“We were alone last night, and today in the car.”

 

“I know, I guess I was just kind of…”

 

“Looking forward to some quality loft time?”

 

Justin smiled. “Stupid huh?”

 

“Just hasn’t hit you yet.”

 

“Has it hit you?”

 

“I don’t know. Don’t think so.”

 

“She is so…”

 

“Was. Was so…”

 

“Loud.”

 

Brian laughed. “Yeah, she was. She was a lot of things.”

 

Justin felt himself start to tear up. He closed his eyes against it. “Haven’t talked to her in over a year. It’s stupid to cry.”

 

“You could have you know.”

 

“I know. She would have forgiven me. She would have forgiven you.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“She would have, Brian.”

 

“Yeah, figured there was time.”

 

“There was.”

 

“Now there isn’t.”

 

“Brian…”

 

Brian shook his head. “Not yet. Let’s just get through the next couple of days and then I promise you can tell my why none of this is my fault and I’m egocentric for feeling guilty.”

 

Justin smiled a little. “I was just going to tell you I’m hungry.”

 

“Sylvio’s?”

 

“Yeah, cheese steak, no onions.”

 

Brian nodded and moved to order. “You want fries or chips?”

 

“Pizza fries and have them send a turkey hoagie too.”

 

Brian stared at him.

 

“For later tonight. I’m not really in the mood to go food shopping and there’s nothing but beer and poppers in the fridge.”

 

“We can order again.”

 

“Turkey hoagie, no mayo or oil.”

 

Brian nodded and Justin found his jeans and his phone. He called his mother.

 

“Justin, I’ve left three messages.”

 

“Sorry, we drove.”

 

“Aaron’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

 

“Good. That’s what I was calling about.”

 

“Sweetie, how are you doing?”

 

“Fine. Brian’s ordering cheese steaks. Michael’s falling apart but I think they made up.”

 

“Debbie was…”

 

“Mom, not yet, please.”

 

He could feel his mother nodding. 

 

“Soon, it’s just…”

 

“I understand. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

 

“Okay, the funeral’s at one.”

 

“We’ll be there.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“For what?

 

“I don’t know, just…in general.”

 

“I love you Justin.”

 

“I love you too mom.”

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

Brian finished placing the order and hung up in time to see Justin pacing and talking to his mother. 

 

“I love you too mom.”

 

Brian clenched his teeth. There was no reason to react to that statement. He watched Justin put the phone back in his pocket and moved behind him, sliding his arms around his waist and resting his chin against Justin’s shoulder. “Everything okay with mommy?”

 

“Yeah, she and Aaron will be back in time on Saturday.”

 

“Good. Food’ll be here in about an hour.”

 

“Maybe we should…”

 

“Go back to bed? I was thinking the same thing.”

 

Justin turned around in his arms and stood on his toes to kiss him. “I love you, you know.”

 

Brian nodded and pulled Justin with him towards the bedroom. He fell backwards pulling the kid on top of him. “We should probably go see Ben and Michael later.”

 

Justin nodded and bit Brian’s nipple, causing him to arch his back. “Don’t talk about Ben and Michael while I’m trying to blow you.”

 

Brian leaned his head back and let Justin comfort him in the way he did best. 

 

When he was done Justin slid back up the bed. Brian moved his arm and Justin made himself comfortable wrapped around Brian’s body. He was drawing lazy circles on Brian’s chest. Brian’s hand was running through the hair at the nape of Justin’s neck.

 

“How hard do you think this is gonna be?”

 

Brian shrugged. “No clue. I’ll let you know once I figure out that Debbie’s not hiding out somewhere and waiting to yell at me.”

 

“Yeah. Maybe she is.”

 

Brian nodded. “Maybe.”

 

“We should go see Michael and Ben… or…”

 

The buzzer alerted them to the arrival of their food. Brian sighed and pulled on his jeans. He let them up and met Lindsay and Gus at the door with some surprise. “Hi.”

 

“Did you two lose track of time?”

 

Brian shook his head. “Not at all we ordered you a turkey hoagie.”

 

Lindsay smiled and Brian paid the delivery guy and took the food. “Pizza fries for Gus.”

 

Justin and Lindsay both glared at him for different reasons. Brian shrugged and ruffled Gus’s hair. “Kid’s gotta eat.”

 

“Dad, I’m not a kid.”

 

Justin laughed. “If I am, you are.”

 

“But you’re not.”

 

“Okay, break your dad of the habit. I’d pay to see that.”

 

Gus was digging into his pizza fries before any of them could say another word about it.

 

They never did get to Michael’s that night. Once Gus was asleep Lindsay, Brian and Justin got stoned and Lindsay and Brian tried to remember the first time she’d met Debbie. They couldn’t, she’d been in their lives, it seemed, forever.


	2. Chapter 2

  
  


* * *

## Keeping Touch

## Chapter Two   


* * *

 

Carl’s funeral and subsequent wake made Brian antsy. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Carl, or police officers…but that many of them in a room at once brought back thoughts of every stupid prank he’d ever pulled, every unpaid parking ticket he may have and made him incredibly aware of the illegal drugs currently in his possession. 

 

Justin seemed blissfully unaware that most of the men he was speaking to would happily lock him up for the bullet tucked in his front pocket. They got through it. It was still surreal and it sort of felt like practice. Tomorrow was the rough one. Tomorrow… they were burying Debbie.

 

Carl’s kids were there. Michael seemed comfortable with them; they’d obviously met before. They didn’t seem bothered by Ben’s hand resting on the small of Michael’s back as he offered his condolences and accepted theirs. Brian poured himself another drink. 

 

It was finally safe to leave and Justin took the keys. Lindsay had left with Mel half an hour ago. Gus actually seemed pleased to be spending time with Jenny. It was just the two of them on the way back to the loft.

 

“You okay?”

 

Brian glared at Justin and he shrugged. “I know, but I can’t figure out a better way to ask.”

 

“Stop trying to figure it out. I’m fine.”

 

“Mmm hmm. Clearly.”

 

“Too many fucking cops.”

 

“They weren’t fucking.”

 

“Right, that’s what was wrong with that picture.”

 

“Ewww, they were all like, a hundred, you really wanted to see them fucking?”

 

Brian shuddered and shook his head. He took an, (arguably), healthy snort of off of his hand and offered it to Justin who pushed it away. 

 

“Brian, I’m driving.”

 

“Right.”

 

“When we get back to the loft.”

 

“Thought you had to get to the studio.”

 

“Not today. Sunday.”

 

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

 

“Good. I’m not planning on babysitting. I just don’t plan on getting sucked into a painting when I’ll have to leave in a couple of hours to have dinner with Mel and Lindz and the kids.”

 

“I got us out of that.”

 

“How’d you manage that?”

 

“I told them I didn’t want to.”

 

“Brian…”

 

“I didn’t. I’m gonna check on Babylon tonight.”

 

“You know, if you just want to go there, for the usual reasons, you can say so. There’s no need to pretend you’re checking on it.”

 

“Who’s pretending? I haven’t been there in a while, and I haven’t heard from Angel in three days, time to do an unscheduled drop in.”

 

“You think they haven’t heard about Debbie? You think they’re not expecting you?”

 

Brian shrugged. “I’m checking on Babylon tonight. Have dinner with the munchers if you want.”

 

Justin shook his head. “I haven’t been inside the VIP lounge in months. I really do need to check on it myself.” 

 

Brian smiled. “That’s my boy.”

 

“Besides Aaron gets in tomorrow and hell if I feel like babysitting him.”

 

“He doesn’t need a babysitter either.”

 

“That’s bullshit.”

 

Brian nodded, his eyes drooping. “Yeah, he probably does need one. Lee coming?”

 

“He’s only met Debbie twice.”

 

“But he works with Michael.”

 

“Oh yeah.”

 

“So he coming?”

 

“I have no fucking clue.”

 

“Well if he does…”

 

“He does.”

 

“Whatever, Lee’s harmless.”

 

Brian took another short hit.

 

“Brian…”

 

“Not now.”

 

Justin nodded and Brian closed his eyes, happy Justin was willing to let this go for the moment.

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

Justin unlocked the door, shut it and set the alarm. Brian was a little out of it. Not totally gone, but not completely there either. It was after four and he hoped Brian headed towards the bed…he didn’t. He poured himself a scotch and sat back on the sofa. Justin sat on the other end, he put his feet up and Brian moved his legs allowing Justin to get more comfortable. 

 

Brian’s foot was between Justin's knees, his other heel resting against Justin’s thigh. “Can we just get through this without a lecture?”

 

Justin watched Brian down the scotch and pour himself another one. “That was my plan. Forget the glass. I won’t mention it and you’re only using it to placate me.”

 

Brian shrugged, downed the scotch and then put the glass on the table, his fingers still wrapped around the neck of the bottle. “There’s nothing wrong with me you know.”

 

“That’s a lie, but I do know that you’re okay at the moment. A little altered but then that’s to be expected.”

 

Brian took another long swallow. “Debbie's a good woman.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I think I forgot that sometimes.”

 

“It was easy to forget sometimes.”

 

“Stop talking about her.”

 

“You brought her up.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

“Christ you’re wasted.”

 

“No lectures.”

 

“Not a lecture, an observation. Let’s go to bed.”

 

“I’m comfortable here.”

 

“You don’t look it.” And he didn’t. He was sprawled in a deceptively relaxed pose but Justin could almost feel the tension vibrating off of him. He wanted to say something but anything he said might be construed as lecturing. He leaned back instead. His legs moving further up Brian’s until his foot was resting in the warm Y of Brian's crotch. He moved slightly. His toes curling and the ball of his foot pressing softly against Brian’s cock. He felt it stiffen under the soft wool of his pants and bit his lip to keep from smiling.

 

“Fucker.” 

 

Brian was slurring his words. Justin didn’t reply, he simply continued to move his foot, softly. He felt Brian’s response as he rocked against Justin’s bare foot. The wool of his pants becoming slightly damp. Justin curled his toes again and then uncurled them. Brian’s hand came to the top of Justin’s foot and pressed it against him.

 

Justin pulled back and disentangled himself from Brian’s legs. He stretched, making sure to raise his arms over his head and allow his shirt to lift away from the waist of his pants. He arched his back to emphasize the expanse of skin even more. He yawned then. “I’m taking a nap.”

 

He walked towards the bedroom and didn’t need to look back. Brian would follow.

 

Justin pulled his shirt over his head and was about to toss it towards the hamper when he felt the material tighten around his wrists. Brian’s free arm snaked around his waist. “You like playing games?”

 

Justin smiled and turned around. Brian’s hand was bunched around his shirt, keeping his arms restrained and over his head. The other hand moved down to Justin’s ass. “Fucking cock tease.”

 

Justin shook his head. “Only if I’m not planning on letting you fuck me, which I totally am.”

 

“Twat.”

 

“Your twat.”

 

Brian took a step backwards and with a quick shove against Justin’s chest, pushed him backwards onto the bed. “All mine.”

 

Justin kept his arms above his head. He could unbind the material quickly but why bother? He moved his body further onto the mattress. His pants still on, his knees hanging over the edge. Brian’s body was over his now. 

 

“You want me to fuck you.”

 

Justin nodded. Brian’s face was so close he couldn’t focus on it without going cross-eyed. He smelled the scotch and the cigarettes and the sharp musky smell that forecasted need and desire. Justin inhaled sharply through is nose just as Brian’s lips met his. His tongue slid between his lips. Justin opened his mouth and Brian’s tongue was sliding against Justin’s. When Brian pulled back, his teeth kept hold of Justin’s lower lip for a moment, tugging at it and finally releasing it. Justin pulled his lip into his mouth and Brian groaned. Justin smiled and Brian’s grin became almost sinister.

 

He grabbed a fist full of Justin’s hair and pulled his head back. Justin’s grin lost some of its confidence but his body was still on fire. He waned this. Brian repeated the question. “You want me to fuck you?”

 

“Fuck me.” Justin heard the desperation and maybe the slight tinge of fear in his voice. Brian’s intensity could be nerve-wracking, even after all this time. Brian’s hands moved slowly but with determination. He unbuttoned the waistband of Justin’s pants, unzipped them and began to remove them. Justin arched his back a little to assist but Brian shook his head. Justin understood and remained still.

 

He was naked now. His pants and underwear somewhere in a heap at the side of the bed. Brian’s wool trousers were causing an amazing friction as he rubbed himself against Justin. He insinuated a thigh between Justin’s legs and Justin used every ounce of willpower he had not to arch up against him and rut into his thigh. Brian licked at his neck, a broad swipe from his collarbone to the spot just behind his ear. “Good boy.”

 

Justin nodded and Brian kissed him again. His tongue setting a pace that his hands matched as he began kneading Justin’s ass. 

 

Justin lost himself to the sensations. Brian’s hands clenching and unclenching around his cheeks. His tongue thrusting into his mouth in the same rhythm. He moaned from the back of his throat and Brian pulled back long enough to shed his own pants. 

 

Brian lifted Justin’s legs then. His hands gripping at Justin’s ankles, holding him wide open. Justin wanted to cover his eyes with his hands but the feel of his shirt still wrapped around his wrists reminded him that he wasn’t suppose to move. He shut his eyes.

 

“Open your eyes, Justin.”

 

He opened them and watched as Brian’s gaze raked down his body. It shouldn’t be embarrassing. There was nothing Brian hadn’t seen. Nothing about his body Brian didn’t know, but somehow the way his appraising look lingered on his leaking cock. The way he moved until his knee was pressing against his ass, and the amused smile when he saw Justin respond to the minimal stimulation made Justin blush.

 

Brian’s hands moved down Justin’s legs now until they were under his ass. They lifted him up off of the bed until his hole was in line with Brian’s cock. His shoulders were still on the bed. His ankles were resting against Brian’s shoulders and then Brian's hands were gripping his hips and pulling him forward while he pushed his cock inside. 

 

Justin could hear the noises he was making. He bit his lip to stop them but Brian shook his head. “I want to hear you.” 

 

Justin stopped trying then. He stopped trying for any control, any semblance of restraint. He grunted and moaned and gasped as Brian fucked him hard. He felt Brian’s sweat dripping onto him. He felt his own body become slick with sweat and could no longer tell where he ended and Brian began. His body was an extension of Brian at this point and the feeling was overwhelming. He felt his body tense as his orgasm flooded him. He came, his legs spread wide by Brian’s hands now, his body resting most of it’s weight on those broad strong palms currently holding his calves miles apart.

 

Brian didn’t stop. He pushed harder as Justin’s seed spurted over his belly and then continued to fuck him. 

 

Justin gasped and tried to protest but Brian’s movements didn’t even change pace. He continued to fuck him. Slowing down at times, and Justin knew that was Brian, prolonging his own orgasm, working to make him hard again, to make him come again. His body was convulsing and then he closed his eyes and felt the glorious sensation of Brian over stimulating every nerve ending. He floated on the electric hiss of Brian’s patented brand of too fucking much. 

 

And then he was hard again. His eyes opened, almost in surprise. Brian’s smile was victorious and Justin grunted his acknowledgement that yeah, whatever, Brian could make him come and then come again. He reveled in the astonishment for a moment, maybe two before it was all, once again, more than he thought he could take.

 

Brian changed his angle, pulling Justin’s legs closer together. He pulled almost entirely out with each pump until Justin felt his second orgasm begin to build. He looked Brian in the eye, willing him to understand. He needn’t have worried. Brian understood completely and sped up finally collapsing on top of Justin. Justin wrapped his legs around Brian’s waist, his heels digging into Brian’s ass. Brian buried his head into Justin’s shoulder and they came together. 

 

It was probably only ten or fifteen minutes later that they finally pulled apart. But to Justin it felt like he’d napped for hours. He’d been tired, worried, overwhelmed when he’d manipulated Brian into bed. But this worked. This was okay. Nothing to worry about. 

 

They moved a little. Brian took most of his weight off of Justin, discarded the used condom and put his head on the pillow. Justin rested his head against Brian’s chest and felt a warm glow of contentment and post coital rapture as Brian threaded his fingers through his hair. He kissed Brian’s chest and they both fell asleep.

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

Lindsay called after eight to say that she and Gus were going to spend the night at Melanie’s. Brian didn’t say a word about it. He thought it was a mistake.

 

By nine Brian was at Babylon, in the office going over a few details with Angel. At eleven Justin dropped his jacket over a chair and dragged Brian by the shirt. “Checking on Babylon is a euphemism. Dance with me.”

 

Brian looked into Justin’s eyes. Black. He smiled. “Quite the little E princess tonight.”

 

“I’ve been waiting for you _forever_.”

 

“Really?”

 

Justin nodded seriously. I got here at ten forty FIVE. Brian looked at the clock on the wall behind Justin’s head. “Fifteen minutes.”

 

“Like I said, for _ever_.”

 

Angel had left moments after Justin had entered the office. Brian nodded to Justin and moved to lead him to the dance floor. Justin was resisting. Brian turned, an eyebrow raised. “Thought you wanted to dance.”

 

Justin turned wrapping his arms around Brian’s neck and standing on his toes to kiss him. “We can dance here.” His body swayed to the beat pounding through the walls.

 

“Christ, you’re wasted.”

 

“You’ve been wasted all day. Let’s not get hypocritical now.”

 

“When would be a good time?"

 

“Shhhh, I can’t hear the music when you whimper in my ear.”

 

“Whisper. I’m whispering, not whimpering.”

 

“Whatever. Tomorrow’s gonna suck. Lets dance.”

 

Brian put his arms around the slim waist and Justin turned again, taking Brian’s hand. “Out there, in public.”

 

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand as he allowed Justin to lead him to the main floor. There was only so wasted he could get when Justin was flying this high. And Justin was probably flying this high because he’d been wasted all day… so really, it was his turn. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back and Justin’s mouth was on his neck. His hands were on his waist. Brian’s hands were running up Justin’s back and he watched, as Justin seemed to absorb the light and sound through every pore and let it flow through him.

 

Brian needed to taste that. He was licking at Justin’s earlobe, swirling his tongue just behind it. Kissing his arms, which were now draped over his shoulders. Watching as Justin moved to the beat with his eyes closed. Dancing with Brian, but for himself. Dancing because this is how Justin dealt with bullshit he didn’t want to think about…or one of the ways. Brian had no illusions that either of them was as okay as they might look to an outsider.

 

He fully expected Justin to disappear into the studio on Saturday afternoon. He didn’t really expect to see him again until whatever possessed him was exorcized onto canvas or into a multimedia piece that would eventually make Justin rich, and famous and…whatever. Justin’s hands were on his ass now. His mouth was moving lower and Brian realized that if he didn’t steer them into the VIP lounge or the back room soon Justin would be blowing him in the middle of the dance floor at Babylon…and while that would be hot, it would also make the whole “no blow jobs in public” rule sort of moot. He steered them both towards the lounge and tried to tune out Justin’s protestations.

 

The lounge was relatively empty for a Friday night. A dozen or so men, all in various stages of undress. Brian made his way over to a chair in the corner but Justin dragged him to a more public spot. He pushed Brian backwards onto the sofa and Brian laughed. Justin straddled Brian’s hips and then twisted his wrists around entangling his own fingers in a yoga like stretch. He arched his back. 

 

Brian’s hands moved instinctively to the warm pale skin exposed by the maneuver and Justin grinned. Brian shook his head. The kid was deadly when he felt like playing him. He didn’t move his hands. Applied no pressure. Didn’t even try to guide Justin. He’d let him figure out where he wanted to be. Justin seemed to be having some difficulty with the decision. He was grinding against Brian’s cock and whispering into Brian’s ear how much he wanted to suck him off. Brian waited for Justin to figure out that this wasn’t gonna work until he either took of his own pants or moved his body lower and took of Brian's. In the meantime Brian watched Justin wriggle under his hands. 

 

He wondered for a moment if he’d underestimated the amount of E the kid had done. Worried for a moment that Justin wasn’t playing him and was too far gone to know what the fuck he was doing. Then Justin smiled widely. “I’m gonna blow you until you’re singing my name.”

 

“I don’t sing.” Justin shrugged and unbuttoned his jeans sliding them below his ass and then moving off of Brian’s lap and doing the same to Brian’s pants. Brian’s hand instinctively reached for Justin’s ass, running a hand over the soft flesh. Justin arched back into his touch and then took Brian fully to the back of his throat. Brian groaned and Justin reached out blindly for Brian’s hand, drawing it to him and moving Brian's fingers into his mouth along with his cock. 

 

Brian felt Justin’s tongue swirl over his fingers and then move back to pay attention to the head of his cock. He would have been amused if he weren’t so turned on. Justin’s ass was in the air, waiting. He looked up for a moment and several of the men seemed to be watching them. He shot a random satisfied smile and moved his fingers towards Justin’s hole. He was pressing against it when Justin arched more and they slid inside the kid. He heard the moan and felt it around his cock.

 

Justin’s fingers were working with his mouth now. His hand grasping the base of Brian’s shaft, his tongue applying pressure to the slit and then his wet lips sliding all the way down the shaft until Brian could feel Justin’s breath on his pubes and Justin’s hands were on his balls and pressing lightly at the spot just behind them.

 

“Christ, Justin.” Brian didn’t let up the rhythm of his fingers in Justin’s ass. Justin wouldn’t come this way, he was too far gone, and his concentration was focused on the pleasure he was giving and not receiving…but Brian knew, once Justin had made him come, his full attention would be on his own orgasm. He wanted to come now. Fast, because he wanted to watch as Justin threw his head back, watch, as his eyes got wide and dark and then feel as his body melted.

 

“Justin.” 

 

Justin’s head popped up, he smiled. “Told you. You’re singing my name.”

 

Brian laughed and Justin’s head lowered over his cock again. His body was rocking onto Brian’s hand, his head bobbing over his cock. Brian came then, with soft blonde hair tickling his thighs. He grunted and Justin swallowed. He raised his body back up. Still at Brian’s side, Brian’s fingers still inside him. Brian’s hand grasped his cock, stroking it. A third finger pushed inside him. Justin’s head fell backwards. “Brian.”

 

Brian continued to move slowly inside him. He looked up and a couple of guys seemed mesmerized by the sight, and the sound of Justin. He pulled his hand out and with a little pressure on his hip Justin seemed to read his request, straddling his lap again, Brian’s fingers found their way back inside him. Justin’s mouth was on Brian’s and Brian sheathed his cock quickly. He was hard again. “Ride me. I want to fuck you.”

 

Justin moaned and lowered himself onto Brian’s dick. Brian pushed a finger back inside him once Justin had settled on his lap. He made short thrusts into him while Justin squeezed against his finger and his cock and soon he came. His eyes wide, his moans loud. Brian kissed him again; pumping into he came as well. Justin stayed like that. Brian softening inside him.

 

“I love it when you’re inside me.”

 

Brian nodded. “Me too.”

 

“We should live like this.”

 

“A lot of people think we do.”

 

“But it’s not enough.”

 

Brian raised an eyebrow and Justin lowered his forehead onto Brian’s shoulder. “Not the fucking, there’s enough of that. Well, there isn’t but there’s no such thing as enough of that. I mean us, alone, not enough.”

 

“We’re in the lounge. Not exactly alone.”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

Brian nodded and ran a hand through Justin’s hair. He did. They hadn’t been alone since Aaron had gotten hurt. 

 

“Vacation?”

 

“God yes.”

 

“After all this… after the show.”

 

“Okay, but why does someone _always_ have to die before we get to go away.”

 

“It just seems that way”

 

Justin was rocking on Brian’s lap. “Up for another round?”

 

Brian groaned but Justin’s body was pulling the blood back where he wanted it. He felt himself grow harder inside him and Justin moaned, raising himself to his knees and bouncing determinedly as he rode Brian hard. Brian’s hands were on Justin’s waist. Justin’s hands were digging into Brian’s shoulders, using the leverage to lift himself almost completely off of him before slamming himself back down.

 

When they both came again they straightened their clothes. Brian got Justin a bottle of water and himself several shots of bourbon and before the night was over they were both to wasted to be anything but happy that they were together, in Babylon, and more alone with each other than they had been in what seemed like a very long time.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

The next morning they both woke up to the sound of the alarm. Brian slammed it off and Justin pulled a pillow over his head. 

 

He fell back asleep and woke again to find Brian prying the pillow out of his grip and waving a cup of coffee in his face. “C’mon.”

 

Justin sat up slowly. Brian handed him a couple of aspirin and he took them appreciatively. Neither of them spoke. What was there to say? They had to be at Debbie’s funeral in a little over an hour. Justin kept casting wary glances at Brian, wondering if he was okay. He had a feeling Brian was doing the same to him. 

 

They showered and dressed. Justin stared at a bagel for ten minutes before deciding against food. He left it on the counter, made sure his phone was on vibrate, that he had his keys and wallet, and took his coat off the hook. Brian grabbed his keys and Justin followed him. They took the jeep.

 

“Might need to bring Aaron back, or Gus and Lindsay.”

 

Justin nodded. They reached the funeral home and Justin could see Brian’s anxiety. He watched as Brian took a hit of something and then took his hand. They walked in together. Only family was allowed in the viewing room yet but Michael came out and silently took Brian’s hand. He waved for Justin to follow. They stood there staring at Debbie. 

 

She looked… beautiful. She looked…peaceful. Justin was pretty sure that wasn’t Debbie. She never looked beautiful or peaceful. He reached out a hand to touch her and saw Brian’s hand dart out to stop him. Too late. He pulled his hand away and wiped it on his pants. She was cold, and hard, like plastic. He felt the warmth of Brian’s fingers around his and it wasn’t enough to erase the feeling. He wasn’t sure anything would be. He felt the tears start and cursed himself. Debbie was laying there. Bright red hair, bright red dress with a purple scarf. She looked ready to sit up and laugh at something that shouldn’t be repeated in polite company… but they weren’t in polite company.

 

JR was being kept away. Gus would be ushered in later. It was just Michael, Ben, Brian and Justin. Michael was crying. Brian put an arm around him. Ben shook his head and Michael shrugged away from Brian’s touch. He moved to the other side of the casket. Brian looked at Ben questioningly. Ben shook his head again. “He’s… he doesn’t want to be touched right now.” 

 

Brian nodded. Justin looked at Michael and really saw him for the first time in a while. He looked…old. He was forty, okay, that’s old, but Brian didn’t look that old. He looked at Brian as if to verify it but yeah…Brian didn’t look that old. Michael looked tired. His eyes were red. He’d been crying. His body was…slumped. Nothing that was too surprising really. Debbie was his mother. Debbie had died. 

 

Justin moved closer to Brian and Brian put an arm around him. Justin was just happy Brian wasn’t asking him if he was okay. He wasn’t. Brian wasn’t. Michael wasn’t. He heard a muffled sound and realized Hunter was sitting alone in the back corner of the church. No one in this room was okay, not by a long shot.

 

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Brian’s POV

 

She looks good. Justin reaches out to touch her… he’s apparently never done this before. Well, his father, but I doubt he actually wanted to touch his father. I try to stop him. Too late. Fuck. I wish…I wish I had remembered to tell him that. She looks great. She feels like a fucking plastic doll. Michael’s falling apart. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him this bad before. His eyes are red, he’s… he’s lost his center. He and Debbie, best friends. Really. Before I met him. After he called me his best friend, and once I left. He was tight with his mom. 

 

She had a lot of love. Fuck. Stop. I can’t fall apart. I can, I will, if I don’t…well…fuck, what was the point of all the bullshit Justin and I just got through if I learned nothing. So fine, I’ll do something about this fucking hurting but not here. Not in public, not when it’s Michael’s turn. Not now.

 

I take Justin’s hand. He’s freaked. He’s just staring at everything, wide eyed. He’s not sad. Not yet. He’ll break too. I’m hoping we don’t break at the same time, but if we do…well, we’ll fix each other. In the meantime… good. Emmett’s here. Ted’s right behind him. He looks harried…right, he was in New York. He probably just got in from the airport. Hell, so did Jennifer then, and Aaron. Fuck, this is getting… I put my arm around Justin and we line up. Ted, Emmett, Justin, me, Michael, Ben, Hunter. We’re standing there by the big gold casket with white satin lining. Her dress is a color not found in nature, so is her wig. She looks… like she’s about to yell at me for something. I want her to. I want her to sit up and yell but this isn’t that kind of dream. This isn’t a dream at all.

 

Everyone walks by to pay his or her respects. There are hundreds of people. I don’t know most of them. I think a lot of them are Pflag members, and diner patrons. She left her mark wherever she went. They seem to get it though, seem to get her. As they sit down I look over the room and notice there’s not a lot of black, not a lot of dark and somber. It looks like a fucking pride parade, well, without the floats full of half naked men, but it wouldn’t really be disrespectful to have those. She loved a smooth hard body as much as the next fag. Fuck… I’m smiling, and that’s gonna look wrong. I glance over at Justin and realize he’s not wearing the tie I packed for him; he’s wearing something bright. He got it. He got her… maybe better than I did sometimes. She was like a mother to him too, and he had a perfectly good one at home…fuck…

 

I want to walk away. Walking away would probably be best but there are people still filing in, offering condolences, hugging us. How the fuck can they stand this, any of them. They’re all standing in line accepting useless “I’m sorry’s” when Debbie's gone. FUCK.

 

Okay, I’m off to have a cigarette. If I know Michael, and I do, he’s gonna insist on a full mass for his mother. This could take a while. I’m on my way out when I freeze. What the fuck is my mother doing here?

 

I guess Justin sees her because he’s suddenly got a death grip on my hand. I shake my head and walk away, down the aisle, out the front door. Let her give her sympathy to Michael, I don’t fucking need it.

 

I light a cigarette and exhale and Justin takes it from me, drawing deep and then handing it back.

 

“You need to go back inside.”

 

“‘S’okay.”

 

“Justin.”

 

“She and Debbie knew each other. This is her church. Of course she’s gonna come.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Maybe…”

 

“Don’t.”

 

“Yeah, she’s used up her chances.”

 

“No shit.”

 

I finish the cigarette and toss it onto the stone steps. “She’s probably sitting down by now.”

 

Justin puts his arm around my waist and I put my arm over his shoulder and we walk back in. The line seems to have thinned and they’re all sitting in the front row. Michael motions to Justin and me and I sit down, Michael on one side of me, Justin on the other. Michael’s got Ben on at his side, and me. If Debbie weren’t gone this would probably be considered a good day…but she’s gone and this is anything but good.

 

I take a breath and the priest comes in and then I just zone out. A full mass, a full fucking hour of standing and sitting and kneeling and people taking communion and there’s like three people in the building that the church wouldn’t like to burn at the stake, and yet here we are. How Debbie managed to stay catholic and be Liberty Avenue’s biggest fag hag was something I could never wrap my brain around.

 

The service is finally over. Michael goes up alone and pulls a blanket over his mother’s face. What the fuck is that? That’s just cruel. Why the fuck does he have to do that? Whatever. We file out. I drive behind the limo, which is behind the hearse. 

 

Justin’s smart enough not to even try the nervous chatter thing. He turns on the radio and we don’t talk.

 

More words by the gravesite. Flowers. I put one on her grave and I watch Justin do the same and I walk away. He follows…of course he does. I take another hit and he glares at me. I give him the keys and he stops glaring. Good. 

 

I just let him guide me. It’s easier, and I trust him. We’re at Debbie's and Michael’s running around like a nut feeding everyone. He’s about to cry but he’s not. People are filing in and out, paying their respects. I need to get the fuck out of here. I get up to go and Justin puts a hand on my knee. “Stay. For Michael.”

 

I look over and Michael doesn’t look like he needs me. He looks like… fuck, he looks like he’s about to fall apart at any minute. I nod and wiggle a cigarette between my fingers, letting him know I’m just going out for a smoke. He walks over towards his mother. I leave and do my best not to slam the back door on the way out.

 

It’s quiet out here. There are a couple of people at the far end of the yard getting stoned. I ignore them and lean against the house. I remember the last time I got stoned with Debbie. It was after Justin had moved to New York, but probably before we found out about Aaron. I was pissed off about something and Ben was sick and Michael was being a pain in the ass as if no one had ever suffered a loss before. And yeah, I guess I get it, he was worried but he was being a fucking asshole to both of us. 

 

She came over with some noodle thing she swears I like. She remembered not to cough…something Michael still can’t remember. It was funny, she said some shit, and I don’t remember what it was but I remember thinking, at the time that I forget how smart she is sometimes.

 

She knew a lot of shit. I’m about to put my cigarette out but Michael comes and stands next to me. I offer him a cigarette… I haven’t seen him smoke since he decided to quit when he was nineteen. He takes it. I hold up a joint but he shakes his head.

 

“I’m already fuzzy. I get stoned and I’ll never make it through.”

 

“Yeah well, maybe you need to fall asleep and stop trying so hard.”

 

“It’s for Ma. She’d want…”

 

“She’d want you to calm the fuck down.”

 

“Probably. Thanks for coming.”

 

I give him a look because I don’t know how to say it without being an asshole but where the fuck else would I be?

 

“I know we should have called you earlier…”

 

I shake my head. Apologies are pointless. “Don’t.”

 

“I’m just…”

 

“Me too.”

 

“I don’t know…”

 

“Neither do I.”

 

“You have no idea what I’m about to say asshole.”

 

“No, but I’m sure it’s pathetic.”

 

He laughs. “I’ve missed you.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“Maybe Ben and I can come to New York.”

 

“I’d like that.”

 

“You’ve got that whole new life…”

 

“I haven’t forgotten you. I told you before I wouldn’t.”

 

“Yeah, but then…”

 

I need him to shut up now before I get angry again so I kiss him. It’s worked for years. It’s gonna keep working apparently. I pull back.

 

“Fine, so we won’t talk about it.”

 

I laugh. There are some really amazing things about Michael and one is that when he remembers to… he really does fucking know me.

 

“I’ve gotta go make sure…”

 

I grab his arm. “Michael, slow down.”

 

He nods but takes off, picking up cups and plates on his way in. He’s not slowing down any time soon.

 

I walk back in and Justin’s hugging his mother. I walk straight through the house and then stop. I catch Gus’s eye, he’s playing with a couple of other kids who got dragged here. “Tell Justin I had to get back to the loft. He’ll find a ride home.”

 

Gus runs inside to tell him. I gun the engine. Yeah, the loft, But first, the baths, and then maybe KinnetiK. 

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~***~**~**~**~**~**~*

 

Justin’s POV

 

Gus is telling me that Brian left. Okay, I kind of expected that. My mom will give me a ride home, or well, hell, I’ve walked from Debbie's to the loft, or back, more times than I can count. Sometimes at four in the morning. Brian always had a fit about those but hello, I had school the next day and he’d never admit that he wanted me to spend the night so I couldn’t exactly pack a bag or leave a uniform there. 

 

So I’d wake up, go back to Debbie's. I know she heard me, she never said anything, and she said something if I got in after one, but only if she knew I wasn’t with Brian… god Debbie was weird…and pulling for us. From day one. Really. She wasn’t sure. She was pretty sure he was gonna break my heart, and he did…but she still…she saw it, she saw what I saw before anyone else did. Christ, she was smart sometimes…and so annoying at others.

 

I miss her. I’ve missed her for a while and I didn’t call. I should have called. Why the fuck didn’t I call? I didn’t call because I hated the way she and Michael had been treating Brian. I didn’t call because it was an easy choice to make. Given the option, I’d make it again but… what the fuck?

 

Mel and Lindz are certainly being…civil. Whatever, trauma equals them finding their way back together. That’s not new. Christ, are Brian and I that predictable? I hope not…but we probably are.

 

I’m about to leave when I turn around to look for Debbie so I can tell her goodbye… and it hits me.

 

I can’t stop. I’m walking, running, and I can’t stop crying, and this is probably hell on my lungs and I don’t care. There’s snot running down my face and I want to find Debbie. I want to tell her I’m sorry. I want to feel her crush me, suffocate me because I’m back and I’ve been gone for three whole weeks and that’s too long and I want her to laugh and smile and tell me I’m being stupid and Brian’s being an asshole and she’s never gonna be around to do that stuff again and I can’t stop.

 

I get back to the loft and it’s empty. I’m not surprised. I need to cry, that means Brian needs to get laid. He’ll come back eventually and I’m not sure what he could do for me right now anyway. I’m trying to catch my breath. I’m trying not to hurt but I can’t help it. She was a huge loud part of my life and I grew up, and I needed her less, but I still… I just always thought… I want her back. It’s not fair and I want her back and it’s not fucking fair. She was too young and she never got to see Gus play football and I need her to bring me lasagna so I can tell her that lasagna won’t fix this… but… it would fix this. And I fall into bed. I pull the covers over my head and I just cry, because I can’t not. Because I don’t know what else to do. Because I hurt. Because Debbie was the heart of our family and without her…what’s left?


	3. Chapter 3

  
  


* * *

## Keeping Touch

## Chapter Three   


* * *

Brian made it back to the loft sometime before two in the morning. He was staggering a little. He shut the door and set the alarm, peeling off his clothes as he headed towards the bed. He stopped for a moment. Justin wasn’t there. He focused harder… yes he was, at least that seemed to be a Justin shaped lump under the bedding. He moved closer and carefully laid a hand on the crumpled pile of sheets and duvet that was currently occupying his side of the bed. It was warm. It moved. It was Justin. Brian stepped out of his pants and slid behind Justin wrapping the entire cocooned bundle into his arms. He felt Justin stir.

“Shhhh.”

Justin’s arm struggled with the blanket, the sheets and Brian’s embrace until his head and shoulders were visible. “You’re home.”

“Mmm hmmm.”

“How’s the gravel pit?”

“Disgusting.”

Justin turned under the covers until he was facing Brian. His hand reached out to smooth Brian’s hair. “You smell really gross.”

Brian nodded. “You’ve been crying.”

Justin nodded. “Seemed like the thing to do.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

Brian closed his eyes and shook his head. “Never mind.”

“I was remembering. I…” Justin was crying again. “I miss her, Brian.”

Brian closed his eyes again. He wasn’t fighting back the tears but he wasn’t entirely comfortable with them. “I miss her too.”

“She was mean, but only because she was honest.”

“Yeah, she knew when to shut up though.”

“Brian, don’t. She’s dead, not a saint. She was…”

“She was actually pretty fucking good at keeping secrets… and taking care of people.”

“Well yeah, she was a mom.”

“To everyone.”

“She liked to be needed I guess.”

“It was more than that.”

Justin settled his head against Brian’s chest. His arms around Brian’s waist. “It was?”

“She loved Michael. He was like, _all_ of her. Anyone Michael loved… she just… she loved them by extension.”

“Huh?”

“She didn’t like me, when she met me, she didn’t like me. She was right. I was trouble. But Michael loved me. I think, when you love someone that much, the way she loved him, you sort of end up having to love what they love.”

“You’re really stoned.”

“Yeah.”

“And she didn’t only love you because Michael did.”

“At first, she just… she tolerated me. But then things changed.”

“What changed? She caught you two jerking off?”

“This was before that.”

“So what changed?”

Brian shook his head. “Stuff. Doesn’t matter now.”

“Brian.”

“She figured it out, about my parents.” Brian felt Justin’s body go still against his. He didn’t talk about his parents much, and Justin didn’t push…he took a deep breath and figured if he was ever going to say anything, now, this wasted, in bed, whispering against the top of Justin’s head, was a better time than any. “I’d been hanging around a lot, we must have been fifteen, so I guess the summer before tenth grade.”

Justin's grip around his waist tightened a little. He kissed the top of his head and hoped that he fell back asleep before he heard any of this. “My dad was laid off. Union gig, so he still got unemployment and union benefits, but had a lot of free time. A lot of free time at home. I was at Michael’s a lot that year. I don’t remember what happened but she noticed…something. She was Debbie, determined to fix it. Started ranting, threatening to call social services, or just go down there and break his kneecaps, tell my mother off for letting it happen.

Christ she was so angry. I remember sitting there on the sofa and watching her scream and yell. I don’t know where Michael was… he wasn’t home yet. She was going off to, you know, tell everyone off.”

“Why didn’t she?” 

Brian was surprised to hear Justin’s voice. To feel the words against his chest. He really had hoped the kid was asleep. He pulled him closer. “I asked her not to.”

Justin pulled back. “What?”

 

“I was almost done. Couple more years and I’d be out of there. I was a lot better at avoiding him by then. She would have just made it worse.”

“But…”

“Shhhh, ancient history.”

“Tell me the rest.”

“There is no rest. I asked her not to. She said she was going to anyway. I said please. And we made a deal.”

“What was the deal?”

“She just said, ‘then you come here. When he’s like that you come here.’”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, so, you know, I did. I thought she was just pissed at Jack, and Joan. They saw each other in church and it really pissed Debbie off when Joan pulled her sanctimonious bullshit.”

“Pisses you off too.”

“We have that in common.”

“So you always had a place to go.”

“Yeah. And I _had_ to go there. That was the deal. We never talked about it again, except the first time I didn’t.”

“Where’d you go?”

“I was sixteen. I went to Liberty Avenue to get drunk and laid.”

“Imagine that.”

“Yeah well. She fucking found me.”

“She found you?”

“My mom called looking for me. She figured it out. Found me and fucking dragged me back to her place.”

Justin laughed. 

“Yeah, wasn’t funny then. Is now.”

“Except…”

“Shhhh. I know. She was just… fucking amazing like that. Screamed, bitched, yelled, made me promise, so I did.”

“And then you always went there?”

“Didn’t have to much after that. Dad went back to work. I was older too. Figured out how to avoid him, didn’t stop going to Deb’s though. She made that ugly house feel like home.”

“She did. I remember that. Even once I didn’t live there anymore, it still really felt like home to me.”

“Me too.”

“It was the only place that did for a while.”

“I know.”

“I love my mother.”

“I know.”

“I loved Debbie too.”

“Shhhh.”

“Stop telling me to shush.”

“I…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what else to say.”

Justin pulled back, sitting up a little. “There’s nothing to say. She’s gone and we miss her and this hurts and not talking about it won’t make it hurt less. Talking about it won’t make it hurt less either. I know that. But I just want…”

“What?”

Justin was crying again, sobbing. Brian sad up, more sober than he’d been twenty minutes ago and missing the buzz. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do next.” 

“Well, how do you want it to end?”

“Huh?”

“If you can’t figure out the next step, figure out the last step and work backwards.”

Justin was crying harder. Brian tried to pull him close but he moved away. “I want Debbie to walk through the door and tell us that we’re both assholes for avoiding her for so long and that this is just bullshit and she’s not dead. I want her back! I want Debbie to not be dead. So you tell me what the step right before her not being dead is and we’ll work from there okay!”

Brian didn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Debbie not being dead. That’s what he wanted too. There wasn’t a cure for this. There wasn’t a plan. There wasn’t hope that it might be something else. There was just…fuck… there was just this pain in his chest and he was not going to fucking cry. He was _not_ going to cry while Justin was crying. He was… fuck it, he was crying.

Justin had launched himself off the bed and was hiccoughing and getting a beer from the refrigerator. He turned and moved towards Brian who lay back down and turned to face away from him. He’d do this alone. He heard Justin put the beer down on his own nightstand and felt him crawl into bed behind him. “Don’t pull away from me.”

Brian didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. Justin kissed his back, by his shoulder and wrapped his arms around him. Brian felt Justin’s tears against his back. He felt his own drip onto the pillow.

Eventually they both fell into a restless sleep and when they woke up, neither felt ready to face another day at Debbie’s house. Neither felt ready to deal with Aaron and Lee, whom they could hear downstairs. Neither of them could really do anything other than stare at the ceiling and smoke.

After their third shared cigarette Brian moved towards the shower. Justin didn’t join him. 

When Brian stepped back out, almost forty minutes later Justin was still staring at the ceiling. 

“We should go home.”

“If you want to.”

“I do. I miss her too much here. I won’t miss her at home.”

Brian sat on the bed. He took Justin’s hand. “Yes you will.”

“I’ll be able to forget more easily.”

“Maybe, but then you’ll just remember and home will hurt just as much.”

“You’re thinking we stay long enough we can leave the hurt here?”

“Doesn’t work like that.”

“Why not?”

“Wherever you go; there you are.”

“Oh yeah.”

Brian’s hand reached up to stroke Justin’s face. “You should shower.”

“I know. I should go do some work in the studio.”

Brian nodded.

“I should also probably say hi to my half-breed.”

“Probably, you pretty much ignored him at the funeral.”

“I was busy.”

“I’ve gotta go give Michael a hand.”

“With what?”

“Whatever he needs a hand with.”

“Tell him…”

“You’ll see him before we leave.”

“I guess.”

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Leave your phone on.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Justin…”

“We’ll hook up for dinner or something.”

“Probably not. By the time you get to the studio it’ll be after twelve. You’re not gonna want to be interrupted.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Pretend I do.”

“Brian.”

“Hmmm?” Brian was pulling on a pair of jeans and flipping through his shirts, examining each one.

“Nothing.”

Brian turned his head and looked at Justin. Justin’s eyes were still a little red rimmed. His hair was messy, his body was tense but he was okay. Brian couldn’t explain how he knew it, but he did. Justin would make it through the day. He pulled a shirt out of his closet and then put on his shoes. He leaned over and kissed him. First his forehead, then a soft press of his lips against each eye. He pressed his lips against Justin’s and felt him respond. He pulled back and smiled. “Hang in there and don’t spend all day in bed.”

Justin nodded but made no move to get out of bed. “See you tonight I guess.”

“Yeah.”

Brian went downstairs before leaving. Lee and Aaron were sitting on the sofa and playing a video game. The volume was set to low. “Justin’s still sleeping. Try to keep it down.”

“Where’re you going?”

“Out.”

“Is there any cereal, or milk?”

“No. Brian pulled several large bills out of his wallet. Get breakfast out. Don’t bug your brother. Then pick up some milk and cereal and whatever else you need to not bug him some more.”

“Is he sick?”

Brian shook his head. “Just leave him alone today. Okay?”

Lee nodded and Aaron elbowed him. “Don’t answer for me.”

Brian smirked and left. 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Justin fell back asleep. He woke up several hours later to the sound of someone in the loft. “Brian?”

 

“No, it’s me. We bought some food. You want anything?”

“No.” Justin pulled the pillow over his head and blissfully the noise stopped. When he woke up again it was almost four in the afternoon. He sat up and yawned loudly. Considered showering but realized it was probably more work than he had energy for. He was thirsty. The beer was still on the nightstand, warm but unopened. He opened it and drank half in a single long pull from the bottle. He lit a cigarette and looked at each ceiling beam as if he hadn’t contemplated every aspect of them over the years. He fell back asleep.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Michael was at Debbie’s house. People had brought more food than even Debbie’s house could store. The freezer in the basement was now full, but it already had been half full with leftover lasagna and marinara sauce. The refrigerator was packed and Michael was packing everything else together to force on those unfortunate souls who stopped by. 

There were a lot of unfortunate souls. Michael never stopped moving. Brian and Ben were sitting at the kitchen table. Each took a turn every twenty minutes or so in trying to convince Michael to slow down, sit down, eat something. He never stopped moving. 

Brian was nursing a beer and a headache. “He slept at all since…?”

“No. He hasn’t even come home.”

“This is my home. Well, it was. I grew up here. And I have slept.”

“Twenty minutes on the sofa doesn’t really count, Michael.”

Michael seemed to ignore the statement and go back to creating care packages. “We should see if the hospice needs some of this.”

“I’ll call them, if you sit down.”

“Ben, I’m fine.”

“You’re grieving, and I understand but…”

“You don’t understand. Just let me do this.”

Ben shrugged and Brian shook his head. “I need a cigarette.” He stood up and went out back.

Ben joined him a minute later. 

“He needs to slow the fuck down.”

“I’m trying, Brian. He’s not as easily controlled as some people.”

Brian snorted. “Justin?”

 

“Well…”

Brian shot him a glance.

Ben laughed a little. “Yeah, I guess you never really did have control of that.”

“‘S’okay he pretends I do, that works for us.”

“Well, I’d just like him to slow down a little. He’s…”

Brian turned his head. “What?”

 

“He’s been sick.”

Brian’s eyes narrowed and his breathing got shallow. “Why the fuck didn’t anyone tell me?”

“No, Brian, no. He’s not positive. But he has no spleen. That compromises the immune system. He was knocked out by a bronchial infection in May, took him three months to get over it. He can’t afford to work himself this hard.”

Brian stubbed out his cigarette and walked back inside the house.

“Michael, sit down.”

Michael ignored him.

Brian took the spoon out of his hand and physically steered him to the chair. “Sit the fuck down.”

“So Ben told you about the cold I had?”

“Sounds like more than a cold.”

“I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose and considered his next words carefully. “Listen to me. Are you listening?” He put his hand on the side of Michael’s face to ensure eye contact. “She’d hate this. She’d hate seeing you make yourself sick.”

Michael stood up. “I’ll finish packing this stuff up and then I’ll take a break. I promise.”

Brian shrugged and sat back watching Michael and wondering what the fuck he was doing. Michael was an adult. He was half Italian and half drag queen. There was no way he was going to slow down. He watched as Ben came in and helped Michael with the care packages. Then Ben put his arms around Michael’s waist and just held him. He heard the soft sob and got up to leave. Ben had this.

Brian called but Justin’s phone went straight to voicemail. He stopped by KinnetiK but seemed to be wandering around aimlessly. Eventually he headed to Babylon. It was just past six and the place was almost silent. He heard voices from the storeroom and ignored them. He walked towards Justin’s studio. No music. He knocked. No answer. He pushed at the door. Empty. Unused. Justin hadn’t been here. He headed back to the loft.

Aaron and Lee were asleep on the sofa. Gus was watching television. 

“Hey sonny boy.”

“Hi Dad.”

“Anything good on?”

“Nope. Seriously you need more channels.”

“I think we have five hundred.”

“Well, then you need better DVDs.”

“For the twice a year you’re here? You have plenty of DVDs at my place in New York.”

“You should have brought them.”

“Wasn’t thinking.”

“Think next time.”

“I will if you will.”

“I think all the time.”

“Really? So what was that thing at school last week?”

Gus blushed. “Um…”

“Exactly. Think next time.”

“Can I go rent a movie?”

“Pick something on pay per view.”

“I’ve seen most of those.”

Brian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Where’s your mother?”

“She and Ma went out for dinner. Jenny’s staying with Ted and Blake but they’re boring. Aaron said I could come here.”

“And then he fell asleep.” 

Gus grinned and Brian was struck again with the absolute terror that Gus could produce in him with a single familiar look. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

“That’s because I’m always thinking.”

“So you say. Where’s Justin?”

Gus shrugged. “Probably still asleep. He was taking a nap when I got here.”

“You eat yet?”

“Nope.”

“Pizza or…”

“Pizza.”

“Order two…” Brian looked over at Lee and Aaron, curled around one another, and thought about Justin, upstairs in bed. “Three. No anchovies on at least one.”

Gus nodded and ran towards the phone. Brian went upstairs. 

Justin was asleep. Only a few blonde strands spilling out from under the duvet were visible. He pulled the blanket off Justin completely. “Get up.”

“Go away.” Justin mumbled into the pillow. Curling his body up to try and conserve the warmth.

Brian sat on the edge of the bed, yanking at Justin’s ankle. “Get up.”

“I’m tired.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“I am.”

“Gus is ordering pizza.”

“Gross. He’ll get anchovies. How can your kid like anchovies?”

“No clue. He’s getting one without. Get up.”

“In a minute.”

Brian walked away and opened his laptop. He found what he was looking for and starting blaring the song.

Justin moaned and sat up. “I fucking hate that song.”

“So turn it off.”

Justin stomped over and shut the machine. The jingle from the new organic kids cereal campaign continued to play. Justin unplugged it. The song didn’t stop. He finally sat in front of the thing and hit the right buttons. He crossed his arms and glared at Brian. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

“No shit.”

“I’m tired.”

“Thought you were going to the studio.”

“I am.”

“When?”

“Now.”

Justin was on his way out the door and Brian chuckled. He turned around and glared.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*

Justin’s POV

I’m going to have to kill him. He’s laughing at me. I’m tired. Bone weary tired. I was working on a good queen out/storm out but he’s chuckling and I realize I hate him, I mean really really hate him. Also, I’m not wearing any shoes, or pants. I’m standing here in my underwear… now’s probably a bad time to walk to Babylon and start painting. Now’s probably a bad time to tell him I hate him.

Fuck it. 

“I hate you.”

He nods. He’s drinking coffee. It smells good. I go to pour myself a cup and he runs a hand through my hair. I shrug him away. “Leave me alone.”

He walks away. He’s pretending to read something. He’s watching me. I hate that.

“I hate when you watch me like that.”

“How do you want me to watch you?”

“Go downstairs. Play with your son.”

He leaves. Good. I sit at the counter with my coffee. It’s not what I want. I don’t know what I want. I want to cry. I want to scream a little too.

That shit he told me last night… how can he act like it didn’t happen. Like the woman who kept him from being completely feral isn’t dead. Christ. Without her, he’d be…worse. I think about that and shudder. Seriously, Brian, worse. Yikes. So she was his mother. Mine too.

Yeah, I was loved. My mother loved me even when my father stopped. She still does, but it wasn’t always easy. It was for Debbie. She was already ready to love a little gay lost boy, and she’d already done it. Hell, that’s probably why she let me live there when Brian brought me back from New York. There’s a kid who can’t stay home with his parents? Sure, bring him over, what’s one more?

But she didn’t treat me like just another wayward youth. She treated me like…me. Sunshine. That’s what she called me. It’s a stupid name, it always has been but from her… it meant love and she loved me and there aren’t a lot of people in this world who do. It’s… Christ, Michael must be a mess. I forgot to ask Brian about him. I suck. I’m… why the fuck did she call me Sunshine? I’m a bastard most of the time. It’s the blonde thing I guess.

But she… god, we had fun. Sometimes it was just us. Debbie and me. Brian was out, Michael was busy with Dr. David, Vic was asleep and she and I would just laugh about the stupidest stuff. She told me about this guy in her high school who thought he might be gay. She fucked him…to help him figure it out. She was always cool like that. Turns out he was. And he wasn’t the one she fucked who turned out to be Michael’s father. Seriously, I think Debbie may have fucked more gay men than…okay, than Ted… but still, that’s a lot for a straight woman.

I’m kind of laughing to myself and Brian’s back upstairs. He’s throwing a pair of jeans at me. Apparently the pizza’s here and he thinks I need to eat something. Whatever. Food isn’t the worst idea.

Gus is laughing at something Aaron said. Aaron and Lee are making faces at Gus’s pizza with anchovies and it’s all… it’s all so normal that it’s making me itch.

“Babylon later?” I whisper it to Brian. I need to go out.

He nods. I kiss him and take a slice. Extra cheese, peppers and onions. Cool.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

The next morning Justin was still asleep when Brian left to go terrorize Ted at KinnetiK. He was disappointed that Ted didn’t even look surprised to see him.

“Bri, I was talking to the people at Sumwhole foods. They’re gonna be in town on Thursday, are you?”

“Which town.”

“This one.”

“Probably.”

“Should I set up the meeting here then?”

“Fine.”

“I’ll let you know what time. So how are you?”

“I’m perfect. You?”

“Yeah, what could be wrong?”

“What indeed.”

“If you want to…”

“Don’t you have to scurry off and make sure everyone gets paid?”

Ted nodded and left. The way he moved could no longer be considered scurrying. Brian sat down on the sofa in his office and contemplated the crystal object d’art on the middle of the table. He decided he hated it and kicked it off so he could put his feet up. The sound of glass breaking was somehow comforting.

Justin walked in at that moment. 

“Redecorating?”

“I hate that thing.”

“Well, I don’t think it’ll bother you anymore.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. Thought I’d stop in and say hi. Lindsay picked up Gus about a half an hour ago. They’re headed back this afternoon. He’s got school tomorrow.”

“Not today?”

“Thanksgiving, long weekend.”

“Right, wouldn’t want the kid to actually learn something.”

“Breakfast?”

Brian shrugged then nodded. They were both lost in their own thoughts as they walked, Brian’s arm over Justin’s shoulder. Neither was thinking to clearly. They were working on automatic pilot. That’s why the bells at the diner door startled them. They hadn’t talked about it…breakfast meant the diner… the diner meant Debbie…and Debbie was there.

They saw her and both did a double take. The place was packed…with Debbie. Both floor waitresses, the counter waitress, the cook, even some of the customers.

They slid into a booth neither sure what to say. “I guess it’s their way of honoring her.”

“It’s fucking sick.”

Brian shrugged. “I always thought she’d make a good drag queen.”

“But she wasn’t a character. She was a real person. _Real_. They’re mocking her.”

“I don’t think they are.”

“They’re…”

Michael walked in at that moment. Brian and Justin both watched his reaction. He seemed glued to the floor. Brian stood up and took his hand, pulling him to the booth. “You…”

“I guess a lot of people loved her.”

Justin put his hand over Michael’s. “They all knew how lucky you were to have her as a mom.”

“Yeah, lucky.”

“She was a little invasive.”

Michael turned his attention to Brian. “She was, but… fuck, I hated that about her. I can’t… shouldn’t…”

Ben slid into the booth next to Justin. He took Michael’s hand. “You okay with this?”

“Yeah, I told you I had to get to the diner today. They asked me to come.”

“You don’t have to be here.”

“I do. For her. She’d hate it if I weren’t here for them. They’re… they’re showing their respect.”

Ben nodded and “Debbie” came to take their order. Kiki still worked there, and now she’d be the new Debbie Brian guessed. He wondered idly as he ordered if she’d keep the red wig and buttons look or go with something of her own. Today though, she had Debbie down pat. The buttons, the rude shirt, the loud gum popping, the purple pen with feathers on the end, and the little insults that came with each order. He smiled. It was probably too soon. It was probably killing Michael. It was nice to know that she wouldn’t be quickly forgotten.

The place was packed. He turned his attention back to the conversation and realized Justin had agreed to help out. “Justin, you’re…”

“Just for a couple of hours Brian. I would have done it if Debbie had asked…”

Brian shook his head. “See, I told you if you didn’t finish college you’d end up waiting tables at thirty.”

Justin flicked water at Brian from his glass before he stood up. “I’m not thirty and fuck off.”

Justin tied an apron around his waist and Brian stared into his coffee. This _was_ too surreal.

And hour later Michael and Ben left to run some errands. Brian headed back to KinnetiK and Justin was still plowing through the breakfast crowd and seemed to be gearing up for the lunch rush.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Justin’s POV

I don’t know how Kiki talked me into this. Maybe it was a bad idea. How the fuck did I do this for sixteen hours straight sometimes? It’s only been three and my back hurts and my feet hurt and how the fuck did Debbie do this for thirty years? I guess she got through because she had to. She always did what she had to.

It’s weird. It’s different, they’ve moved some stuff, and changed some things but it feels so familiar with Debbie’s bright, loud, inescapable presence in my peripheral vision every time I move. It’s hard though. Every time I see her I think, _shit, there’s something I’m supposed to tell her_ then I remember what that is…and I want to scream, because it’s not really her, and I can’t really tell her. 

Michael must still be in shock. He has to be. He’s handling this way too well. But then, I think maybe we’ve underestimated Michael. Well, I have. I’m not sure Brian has. I think Brian may just be… fuck; I have no idea what Brian’s thinking right now. I usually do but his relationship with Debbie was more complicated than I ever understood. That’s pretty much the only thing I ever understood about it… that she was mean and protective of him at the same time and that he loved her in a way he really didn’t love any other adult.

I’m pouring coffee and serving water, and taking orders and it’s all muscle memory. The menu hasn’t changed much. I’m doing it all and I’m not really thinking about it anymore. I’m thinking about Brian. I’m thinking about how much Brian loves his family. The thing that gets me is It’s not just _our_ family. He won’t talk about it, but he loves his mother and Claire too…

Fuck, this is… this is gonna cut deeper than I thought. I’m remember my first couple of days at the diner when the only thing that got me through was the fact that I’d still get to see Brian, because he came in for breakfast every day, and the huge tips… and Debbie, she helped me. I was terrible at this job.

And I’m remembering something else except Brian seems to be remembering it too. He just walked in and I know that look. He’s yelling something to one of the Debbie's… he’s pulling me back, through the kitchen, to the alley behind the place, and he’s got me against the wall, kissing me.

Oh Christ I remember this. This is why I made it through long shifts at the diner… because the breaks were…rejuvenating. He’s pushing my shirt up and pinching my nipples and I’m grinding against him. God, we were so young, and so very horny, and fuck it we’re still young and still fucking need each other. His hand is palming my cock over my jeans, under the apron and I’m working to take his pants down. He shakes his head and I put my arms back up against the brick. I let him guide me, turn me around, kiss my neck. I feel him pull my jeans down and he’s inside me before I can register anything other than the need for him to be there.

He’s not saying anything. He never did. What is there to say? “I want you. I need you. You drive me insane. I might love you.” They’re all there in the way his hands span my chest and pull me against him. In the way his breathing is ragged in my ear, in the way he snaps his hips and angles again making me moan. It’s all there in the fact that hundreds of times there were millions of things he could and should have been doing. Millions of guys he could have been fucking, but he was fucking me, behind the diner, in this little nook between the pallets and the dumpster and isn’t that just the most romantic thing ever? 

It is. He remembered and that’s romantic too. And sometimes he’d finish and mention seeing me again that night and my heart would soar and my feet would stop hurting and I swear they wouldn’t touch the ground for the rest of the day. And sometimes he wouldn’t say anything and I’d be left confused and the shift would fly because I spent most of it wondering if I would see him again that day, or the next.

Today, well, I know we’ll go back to the loft, together. And next week, we’ll go back to New York, together. But right now… he’s biting my earlobe and my hand is in his hair pulling his head closer and I’m about to come, rocking into his hand and back onto his cock, and I don’t have to wonder anything, and I shouldn’t still be on cloud nine just because my partner is fucking me in a back alley behind a greasy spoon…but I am because he is and I fucking love this man too much for it to be healthy. 

I think that and I come. He wipes his hand off on the inside of my apron…the way he’s done hundreds of times before. He straightens his clothes, looking again like an executive on top of the world, and not a horny teenager rutting in a frenzy but his face is flushed and his lips are red and I know that wants nothing more than to drag me back to the loft right now. There’s no reason why we can’t but I should finish my shift, and I’m sure he can find something to do at KinnetiK or Babylon 'til the dinner rush is over.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Brian wasn’t sure what made him do it. He had gone over some contracts, saved the company a fortune in overnight deliveries by actually seeing some new boards in person, and the entire time, he couldn’t stop thinking about Justin in that fucking apron. 

So he left, when he knew the lunch rush would be dying down. He stopped thinking, and he pulled Justin behind the diner and the rest was auto pilot, and hot, and so right, and so, wrong, and the feeling that Debbie was going to come yell at them for taking too long was overwhelming. The feeling that Justin was still this kid, this kid that didn’t know what he wanted, this kid that he should stay away from, or get as close to as possible as often as possible before he _did_ figure out what he wanted. All of that was still there, and it made him come harder than he had in a while and that was wrong and yet, right.

He didn’t need to tell Justin to meet him at the loft later. Where the hell else would Justin go? But he did whisper it to him before he walked away, because he loved that smile. That smile that was pretty much entirely reserved for moments like this. 

So he walked away, almost whistling and tomorrow, he’d get this idea he had underway. Tomorrow, he’d talk to Michael a little more. Tomorrow he’d do a lot of things. Tonight…he and Justin would go to Babylon. Tonight, he and Justin would be Brian And Justin, and nothing could stop that. 

Brian gunned the engine to the ‘vette and headed north. There were a few decent stores in Pittsburgh and he felt like spending some money.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

  
  


* * *

## Keeping Touch

## Chapter Four  


* * *

Brian was shopping with a vengeance. There were times he’d idly stroll through a store looking, maybe buying something, maybe not. Not today. Today was about reaffirming who he was, and retail therapy, and proving that he could have whatever he wanted. So today he had a large selection of purchases waiting to be loaded into the car. They probably wouldn’t all fit in the ‘vette. He’d have them delivered. He didn’t care. It seemed they might be in Pittsburgh for a while.

The store was pretty crowded. It was after Thanksgiving and Christmas shoppers were out in full force. Brian, for the most part, didn’t make eye contact. He did meet the eyes of a likely prospect over a table of cashmere socks. He did let the likely prospect blow him in one of the fitting rooms. Then he went back to buying a lot of shit even he knew he didn’t need. Justin wouldn’t complain. They both had their coping mechanisms. Spending too much money was the one Justin bitched about least. Brian nodded to himself and then to the sales guy as he added a leather jacket in Justin’s size to the growing collection.

Three hours later everything was packed tightly into the car and he was aiming it back towards the loft. He’d been hit hard a couple of times as he saw items that he considered as a Christmas gift for Debbie. He lit a cigarette and tried not to let the hurt… hurt. It didn’t work. He felt guilty. 

He used to be good at guilt. He used to be good at a lot of things but truthfully; this year could not end soon enough. He’d be happy to see it go. Justin had really made remarkable recovery after the little glitch with the brain damage, but Aaron was still healing. Hell, he and Justin were still healing over that, and now this. He laughed to himself, the good news was he didn’t have to wonder “why me”. He knew. He wouldn’t say it out loud. It made Justin groan, and not in a good way, but this is how his life went.

Things were good. Then disaster. He rebuilt his psyche and repaired the physical damage to his life, and that just meant that something else was about to come crashing down around his ears. 

He turned the radio up, closed the window and lit a joint. He was pleasantly buzzed when he got home.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Justin saw Brian come in and smelled the heavy and not unpleasant scent of good weed. He moved towards him and grabbed a few of the packages and bags that looked like they were about to topple.

“There’s more in the car?”

Brian nodded.

Justin shook his head and smiled. Brian was sometimes, very, very, predictable. He handed Brian a beer. “You drove stoned?”

Brian nodded again and smiled and Justin didn’t say anything as he pulled on a pair of shoes and went down to get the rest of the stuff out of the ‘vette. By the time he came back upstairs Brian was naked and hanging up some of his purchases, carelessly throwing others onto the bed. 

“Those are for you.”

Justin eyed the collection of ties he’d never wear, sweaters he would and picked up the leather jacket almost reverently. “This is nice.” Brian nodded absently. “For me?”

Brian turned to look at him. “It’s too small for me.” 

Justin slid it on over his t-shirt and felt it settle onto him like a second skin. He smiled. “Thanks.”

“It cost over two hundred dollars, I think I was supposed to ask first.”

Justin moved towards him and stood on his tiptoes to kiss him. “You don’t have to do that anymore.”

“I don’t?”

 

“No.”

“Since when?”

Justin rolled his eyes and pulled Brian’s head down for another kiss. He pulled away a few centimeters, “shut up”. 

Brian slid the jacket off of Justin's shoulders and Justin felt Brian’s hands pushing his t-shirt over his head. “You looked hot in the diner.”

“I must have.”

“Haven’t fucked you there in a while.”

“Because we’re usually there just to get something to eat.”

“But you were working.”

“How stoned are you?”

Brian shrugged and pushed Justin back towards the bed. Justin felt something soft against his back. He reached for it. Cashmere socks, nice. Before he could say anything else Brian was on top of him. His naked body against Justin’s still clothed one.

Brian was grinding against him. “Brian, we both have to be naked for this to work.”

Brian seemed to have a moment of clarity. He held himself up on his arms long enough to allow Justin to wriggle out of his jeans. Then he yanked the t-shirt over Justin’s head. “Naked enough?”

Justin nodded and Brian’s face was buried in Justin’s shoulder. His hands were running down Justin’s arms. Brian grabbed the discarded socks and rubbed them across Justin’s skin. Justin moaned. They were soft. Brian’s movements were slow and deliberate and he realized Brian wasn’t half a stoned as he’d been playing. He smiled. It wasn’t like that was a new game for either of them.

He wrapped his legs around Brian’s waist, opening himself up, offering himself. Brian moved back, seemingly taking a minute to take him in. 

Justin let his legs fall further apart, watched as Brian’s eyes and then his hands found their target. He bit back a moan at the feel of Brian’s fingers inside him. It shouldn’t still be this good, it really shouldn’t. Brian was working a third finger into him and Justin knew he was going to come, just like this. Laying on thousands of dollars worth of unneeded items. Brian’s fingers working him to climax. He spread his legs wider and Brian’s mouth was sucking the head of his cock now. His lips forming a tight ring right below the head and his tongue fucking the slit, sucking the pre-come from it. 

He arched into Brian’s mouth and Brian used the leverage to move his hand deeper into Justin. His fingers curled and found the spot, massaging it relentlessly as Justin shot into Brian’s mouth. He watched as Brian swallowed, as he hollowed out his cheeks and gave a few more tremor inducing strokes to his prostate. Justin’s arms were over his head, and he felt Brian crawling over his body.

He licked his lips and as Brian’s cock came closer to his mouth he reached for a pillow, putting it beneath his head to support his neck. Justin’s tongue flicked out in a desperate desire to lick the bead of fluid from the tip of Brian’s cock but Brian tapped it against his nose instead. Justin almost laughed, almost groaned and then Brian was slowly feeding his cock to Justin.

Justin took him fully, his hands gripping Brian’s hips and urging him forward. He opened his throat the same way he’d opened himself to Brian earlier. He wanted him. Wanted Brian inside him. He sucked, and used his tongue and lips and throat to coax Brian to orgasm and when he came Brian let out a sound that was barely human. Justin shuddered. He loved that sound.

He continued to suck and probe Brian’s slit with his tongue until Brian pulled out and collapsed on the bed, his head hanging off the edge. Justin moved until his head and shoulders were equal with Brian’s. Brian moved his arm and Justin moved closer to him. Both their heads were now hanging off the bed as Justin surveyed the mass of bags and tissue paper strewn in front of the closet.

He turned his head towards Brian. Anything left in the stores?”

Brian shrugged. “We needed some stuff.”

Justin moved his arm and retrieved his new jacket from the pile nearest him. He glanced at the price tag. “Tell me this was on sale.”

“It was on sale.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“You told me to tell you it was.”

“Brian.”

“You want to take it back?”

Justin pulled the jacket over his torso and hugged it to him. “No.”

Brian smirked. “Thought so.”

“It’s a great jacket.”

“Yeah.”

“It was like twenty three hundred dollars.”

“Like, but not exactly so it’s okay.”

“Thank you.”

“You said that already, and you sucked my cock, so I think you’ve paid for it.”

“Thanks, that whore complex thing… shit like that helps.”

Brian moved to run a hand over Justin’s forehead. He’d be moving the hair off of his face if they weren’t dangling upside down off the bed. “You’re not a whore.”

“No shit. I’ve earned way more than this jacket for putting up with you.”

“What do I get? I had to put up with you and your half-breed.”

“You like Aaron.”

“Sometimes.”

“Well…”

“We should go away after your show.”

“Yeah.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Don’t care.”

“Warm?”

“We always go warm.”

“Not always.”

“Rome.”

Brian nodded. “We could go to Rome.”

“Or Australia.”

“We should take a month. Do Australia.”

Might take us longer than a month to do ALL of Australia.”

“I mean see.”

“Oh, yeah, we could go SEE Australia, you never did get there.”

“No, I never did.”

“Do you regret it?”

Brian turned his head to look at him. “Not for a minute.”

“Liar.”

Brian smiled and sat up. “Couple of minutes, here and there maybe.”

Justin let the blood flow to his brain for a little longer. 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

The next day Justin woke before Brian and decided to pick up a few supplies he needed before he headed to the studio. He was heading back towards Babylon when he realized he probably didn’t have any coffee in the studio. He ducked into Starbucks. Michael was just finishing paying for his own coffee when Justin got in line. Justin ducked out of line to say hi.

“Hi.”

Michael looked up from his cup surprised. “Oh, hi.”

Justin had a few things he wanted to ask but couldn’t find a way to do so. Simple things, like “how are you?” But it seemed rude to ask. He wanted to ask why Michael didn’t get coffee at the diner but imagined it was for the same reason he hadn’t. Too many Debbies. Too many memories.

“You look tired.” He said, feeling lame even as the words came out.

Michael grimaced. “Yeah, so I’ve been told.”

“You need any help?”

 

Michael shook his head. “Just have to pack some stuff up. The hospice is taking a lot of stuff, and then the Salvation Army is picking up the rest later in the week.

Justin nodded. “That’s um…”

Michael shrugged, “it just is.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

“Well, I gotta…” Michael made a gesture towards the door and Justin moved aside to let him by. 

“Yeah, and I gotta…” Justin gestured towards the line. Michael left without saying another word.

He bought his coffee and unlocked Babylon. Brian was there talking to Angel about something. He joined them.

“Shopping?”

“Needed some stuff. Working today.”

Brian nodded.

“Michael’s boxing up Debbie’s house. I think most of it’s going to the Salvation Army.”

Brian snorted, “That’s where most of it came from in the first place.”

Justin nodded and headed upstairs. He heard Brian end the conversation with Angel rather abruptly and took a moment to stand on the catwalk and watch Brian leave. He had a feeling Michael wouldn’t end up packing alone.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Brian didn’t knock. He pushed the door open and found Ben and Hunter taping together boxes. Michael was yelling something unintelligible from upstairs. He nodded to the two of them and headed up towards Michael’s voice. He heard the door shut a few minutes later. Ben and Hunter must have left. 

He sat on the bed and watched as Michael sorted through a cacophony of colors using a system that only Michael might understand to toss things into one of two boxes. 

“This stuff all goes to charity.”

“And that stuff?”

“Needy drag queens?” Michael said with seemingly no ironic intent. 

Brian laughed. “There are drag queens that desperate?”

Michael laughed a little at that and Brian offered the joint he’d just lit. Michael shook his head and Brian extended his hand a little further. “No one to yell.”

“Ben…”

“The good professor went to get more boxes.”

Michael took the joint and inhaled deeply, he coughed, but only a little and then exhaled the smoke. “Good shit.”

Brian didn’t say anything. Michael seemed to think he’d still by skunkweed from the juniors at school. He took another long hit and then gave the joint back to Michael. “So, most of the furniture..”

“Yeah, the hospice needs stuff. I mean, they love the Barcelona chair but there are more than two people there.”

Brian nodded. “I know. They’ll appreciate a lot of this stuff.”

Michael picked up a few decorative knick-knacks from the dresser. “Some of this shit…”

“Yeah, let them resell it to someone else.”

“Should I do that? Should we have a yard sale, give the money to…”

Brian took another hit and shook his head. “Let them have it.”

Michael lay back on the bed, his arms spread wide, his knees hanging off. “This sucks.”

Brian leaned back, letting Michael’s arm cradle his neck. “No shit.”

“She was…”

“Too young?”

“Kinda, and not ready. She had stuff to do. They were going away you know. Next month, after the holidays she and Carl were going on a cruise. Two weeks. She was worried about who was gonna water her plants.”

“All her plants are plastic.”

“I told her that. She told me to shut up.”

“Sounds like her.”

“I’m sorry.”

Brian turned his head to face Michael. “What the fuck are you apologizing for.”

“I don’t know.”

“Then cut it out.”

“I’m sorry I had a better mom than you did.”

“I don’t know. Joanie’s not so bad.”

Michael really laughed then and Brian joined him. “Think Joanie would’ve made us nachos at two in the morning when she KNEW we were stoned?”

Brian laughed louder. “Joanie would have lit a candle for the both of us.”

“I think my mom did that too.”

“Deb had her religious quirks.”

“It wasn’t a quirk. She had faith.”

Brian started to sit up but Michael put a hand on his chest and he stayed on his back. “She prayed for you. All the time.”

“You too.”

“Yeah, but… she had to have real faith to think hers would work for you.”

“Did they?”

“I don’t know. I think they did. You happy?”

Brian didn’t have to think about it. “Mostly, yeah.”

“Then they worked.”

“You?”

“Me?”

“You. You happy?”

“I don’t know. Most of the time, yeah. Missed you.”

“Yeah.”

“I was sorry to hear about Justin.”

Brian looked at him questioningly. “The surgery.”

“Ancient history.”

“Yeah, I guess. I was sorry about Aaron too.”

“Lee talks too much.”

“Pfft. He’s easier to work with than Justin.”

“Justin has a strong vision of what Rage should be.”

“Justin’s always had a strong vision…of everything. It’s why you love him.”

“Maybe.”

“Mom knew.”

“She did.”

“She knew before you did.”

Brian shook his head and pulled a joint from the pocket of his shirt. “Nope, she just said it before I did.”

“I should have…”

“Stop. Doesn’t matter. Now, what the fuck are you going to do with all this crap?”

Michael took a deep inhale and struggled to get up. “There’s ziti in the fridge, and I don’t fucking care. The hospice people can come and get it all.”

“Nothing here you want?”

“Nothing here I need.”

Brian scanned the room. “The pictures.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep those.”

“And the ceramic kittens?”

Michael got an odd smile on his face and threw them all in a small box. Brian followed him as Michael carried the box to the back yard. He threw the kitten, hard. It hit the tree and shattered. 

“Nice pitch.”

“I hate these things.”

“She was pissed off when you broke one.”

“Yeah. Well, she’s not around to be pissed off now.” Michael handed one to Brian. Brian threw hard and it smashed against the side of the shed. 

“Nice.” Michael took aim.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Seven hours later Justin wiped the paint off of his hands and studied the small piece he’d been working on. He wasn’t sure it would work in the show. He wasn’t sure it was even good. He was sure he’d needed to do it.

He checked his phone. No messages. He called Brian’s phone… no answer. He debated, wondering if Brian and Michael needed more time. Certain that they had been together earlier in the day. He shrugged and decided he was at a good stopping point for the night. It was almost six. He walked towards Debbie's house.

The walk was… well; it was a stroll down memory lane, or avenue as the case may be. He was reminded of times he and Brian had just had fun, wandering the streets ducking into alleys for a quick blow job, and contrary to public opinion, he was not always the one on his knees.

He was reminded of Debbie just about everywhere he looked. He purposely walked on the other side of the road from the diner, checking out the bookstore and the trashy cheap clothing store that had replaced Torso years ago. There were a few buildings that had been turned into mini upscale shopping sites. Higher end stores, brick fronts with arches and Ivy and potted plants. Cobblestone walkways. Didn’t change the fact that they were on Liberty Avenue. 

He moved off of Liberty proper and made his way to Debbie's house. The older couple. Both nice guys, the younger one, who was…fifty? Maybe fifty-five, when Justin had offered to mow their yard for them years ago…he’d been unable to take his eyes off of Justin. They’d changed the color of their awning, or moved. That pink awning had always told Justin he was close to Debbie's. It was nice to see on the really cold somewhat daunting walks home at three, four, five in the morning. It was gone, a leaf covered thing that looked like a grape arbor had taken its place. Justin opened Debbie’s door. It was still red. Emmett had painted it and well, Debbie had liked it, even after Emmett moved out.

He tried not to be surprised by what he found when he stepped inside but… well, Brian and Michael, that wasn’t surprising. There were several empty bottles around them. A roach in the ashtray. The ashtray on the floor. Brian and Michael on the floor. Not because they were drunk, though the were. Not because they were stoned, although that was a safe bet too… but because…

Justin scanned the room. It was… trashed. Not “I just had some bad fake E from a Tijuana bathtub” trashed. More like “I’m really angry and I don’t have a chainsaw so I’ll do this with my bare hands” trashed. 

The sofa pillows were ripped to shreds. If the sofa hadn’t been made of solid teak Justin was pretty sure the frame would be just as battered. The ugly wallpaper was pulled off the wall in places.

The railing had been pulled down and apparently the newel post had been used as a battering ram against the screen door. 

Justin considered backing out of the house slowly. Considered calling… Ben? The authorities? The men in the white coats? It was too late. Brian had seen him.

“Sunshine.”

Michael giggled and then groaned.

“Brian.”

“We were redecorating.”

Justin sighed in exasperation and then sat down next to Brian. He picked up the bottle next to Brian’s hand that was still half full. He looked at it closely. “Cheap scotch.”

“It was Debbie's.”

“I figured.”

Brian leaned his head back against the floor. “Think you can re-design this space so it’s saleable?”

Justin turned his attention to Michael. “You’re selling the house?”

Michael shrugged. “Why keep it?”

Justin didn’t have an answer so he took a pull from the bottle and grimaced. “Really cheap scotch.”

“Carl didn’t drink. I think Debbie had this bottle since Michael graduated high school.”

Michael shook his head. “Longer than that. We opened this bottle. ‘Member? Mom got…”

“Yeah, Christ, she wouldn’t stop yelling.”

“You were turning me into an alcoholic.”

“Right, that’s what she was yelling.”

“And you already were one.”

“Yeah, she was yelling that too.”

“Was she really yelling or were you just hung over?”

Brian turned his head, with seemingly great difficulty towards Justin. “No way to know.”

Justin nodded and relit the roach taking a hit. He was exhaling the thick sweet smoke when Ben and Hunter came in trailed by Emmett and Ted. “Holy shit, dudes.”

Ben seemed about to say something more profound but he just shook his head. “What happened?”

“Brian and Mikey show.” Justin explained as he offered the roach to the newcomers. Hunter took a hit and sat against the wall across from the threesome who were all slouched against he wreckage that had once been Carl and Debbie’s living room suite. “Holy shit.”

Ben sat next to him and took the joint from his fingers. Hunter seemed about to protest when Ben took a hit. Emmett took it from Ben’s fingers, took a long inhale and then stubbed out the now useless paper. Ted sat on the floor against the window. He seemed to be surveying the damage. “The place looks nice.”

They all started to laugh. Michael was laughing into Brian’s chest. Brian’s arm was around his waist; his other hand was sliding through the hair at the nape of Justin’s neck. “We’ll fix it up, sell it. Use the money to…” Brian stopped.

Justin looked at him. Michael wasn’t laughing. He was crying. He took his hand away from Justin’s neck and wrapped his arms around Michael. He didn’t say anything for a while.

Eventually Michael pulled it together. He smiled at the group as he pulled away from Brian and sat up. “Sorry.”

“Sorry’s bullshit.”

They all rolled their eyes or groaned or did some combination thereof. 

“A halfway house… a shelter, for runaways, for lost boys. A place for them to go.”

“Huh?” Brian turned his head towards Justin. “What?”

“That’s what we should use the money for. Well, and you know…OTHER money.”

“My money.”

“Our money.”

“Right.”

“Seriously.”

Brian nodded. “Ted, you can…”

“I’ll get on it tomorrow. Insurance, licenses, find someone qualified to run it.”

“Brian nodded. She’d like that.”

“House has served that purpose for years. Just makes it official.”

“I have a few friends in the psychology department who I’m sure would be willing to sit on the board, make it official.” Ben added. 

Michael smiled and turned to Brian. “Good idea but… before this becomes a home for wayward youth, with rules and shit…”

“Yeah?”

“Got any more weed?”

Brian laughed and turned to Justin. “I’m out.”

Justin nodded and reached into the inside pocket of his new jacket. “Now I know why this jacket was so fucking expensive.”

It was Brian’s turn to roll his eyes. “You stole that out of my stash this morning.”

“I mean the secret compartments.”

“Whatever.”

Justin lit the joint and took a deep inhale before he passed it over Brian to Michael. Michael passed it back to Brian, who passed it back to Justin. 

Justin noticed Emmett and Hunter glaring at them and laughed. He tossed them another one and Ben seemed about to say something again…but obviously thought better of it. Ted sat back and shook his head. He didn’t do such things anymore but it was nice to have them all together again… even if the reason for it was… bad.

Two hours later they were all mellowly stoned and picking at the remains in the fridge.

“I keep expecting her to come in and yell at us.”

Michael nodded at Justin’s statement. “She yelled a lot.”

“She’d hit you on the back of the head, with the newel post if she saw what you did to her walls…and her TV.”

“Please. She’d hit me on the back of the head if I closed the door too loudly.”

“It’s how she showed affection.” Ted added.

“Yeah. She affectioned the hell out of us.” Emmett said through a mouthful of chocolate cake.

Brian didn’t say anything he pulled Justin closer and whispered into his ear.

Justin shook his head and knew everyone was watching. Brian growled a little and Justin laughed. “I’m not getting fucked in that tiny bathroom again… we have… space.”

“Where? There are half-breeds and Rage artists all over the loft.”

“Lee and Aaron are heading back tomorrow. Besides, it didn’t stop you last night.”

“They were asleep.”

‘They’ll sleep again.”

Brian shook his head. “All this other stuff I can take, but you saying no to sex?”

Justin rolled his eyes and stood up. Taking Brian’s hand pulling him up the stairs and muttering to himself. He heard Brian call back over his shoulder something about rules and Michael’s room. He pushed Brian down against the single bed that still occupied Michael’s old room. The motorcycle wallpaper was gone, but the furniture hadn’t changed. It was still the room of a young boy, in primary colors and Justin knew that shouldn’t make him hard. It did.

“Know what I’ve always wanted?”

Brian looked up at him; eyes a little glazed but mostly sober now. “A pony?”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve wanted me to shut up? You’ve spent the last eleven years trying to get me to talk.”

“No, mostly I like when you talk. Shut up now. Know what I’ve always wanted?”

Brian looked at him silently. Justin moved closer unbuttoning Brian’s shirt. “You. In this bed.”

“You’ve had me in this bed.”

“No. You’ve had ME in this bed.”

“Oh hell no.”

“I used to lay here at night. Eighteen years old, stupid adolescent fantasies, and I wanted to top you.”

“You have. You do.”

“Not here. Not in this bed.”

“With good reason.”

Justin raised and eyebrow and palmed Brian’s already stiff cock through his jeans. “Because your stud of Liberty Avenue reputation would be ruined?”

Brian shook his head. “Better reasons than that.”

“Like what?”

Brian bit his lip. 

“I used to think about it all the time.” Justin played his trump card. “Especially after a rough day at school, when I was too bruised from being slammed against a wall to see you. Way too sore to get fucked.”

Brian’s eyes flared for a second. Justin unbuttoned Brian’s jeans slowly, pulling them down off of his hips, sliding his shirt completely off his body. “I used to think about you sneaking in the window to see me. Stoned, drunk, both, the way you used to do.”

Brian wasn’t ready to drop the subject yet. “You let me slide under the covers. Didn’t let me take them off you. Thought you were shy.”

“Was.”

“Because.”

“Ten years ago.”

“Right.”

Justin flattened his tongue along the base of Brian’s shaft and licked to the tip where he let his tongue dip into the slit, lightly. He tasted the precum and knew he was almost there. “I’d think about you falling asleep, and waking up with me inside you. Stupid, I know, you’d wake up long before that, but it’s MY fantasy. You’d be surprised but not upset, and then I’d fuck you. I must have jerked off to that a thousand times”

“You didn’t live here for a thousand nights.”

“Like I only jerked off once a night.”

Justin was pushing Brian’s hip a little and grinned with satisfaction when he rolled over. “Then there were the fantasies when you weren’t asleep. When you wanted me to. Begged me to.”

“THAT’S a fantasy.”

“Really? You don’t think I can make you beg?”

“Not here.”

“Maybe not. But I can.”

Brian nodded and Justin grinned. He was straddling Brian’s legs now. His ass resting on Brian’s calves. He took a moment to simply enjoy the image. Brian was so fucking beautiful and he wasn’t just telling him the fantasy to get into that hot beautiful ass. He really had thought about it. He’d build elaborate fantasies around it. And now, Brian was here. Brian was lying on the narrow bed in which he’d first fucked Daphne. The narrow bed in which he’d spent countless nights hoping and some really amazing nights when his hopes because reality. And he still wanted this.

He moved his mouth to Brian’s back. He loved the way the muscles moved under his skin. Loved the odd taste of whatever it was he used on his back sometimes when he thought it was getting too dry. He loved the feel of his skin, rougher than silk, smoother than satin, hot, warm, soft, hard. He kissed down Brian’s spine and tried to keep his grin from being TOO victorious when Brian buried his head into the pillow to muffle the sounds.

He moved lower, kissing the small of Brian’s back. Kissing the spot where his back became his ass. Parting his cheeks and licking lightly. Brian was such a whore for a rim job sometimes and Justin knew he had him. He could fuck him right now. Brian was ready but he wasn’t. This was his last, and only chance to fuck Brian in the place he’d never every imagined he’d get to. He didn’t care that there were several people downstairs sitting silently and straining to hear every sound. He wanted to savor this moment.

He pushed his tongue into him and Brian bit back a moan. Justin pushed against Brian’s thighs spreading them wider. Brian raised himself onto his knees a little and Justin pushed Brian’s legs further towards his chest. Opening him up and then sitting back and enjoying the view. 

He heard Brian groan and slicked two fingers, inserting the first slowly, watching in fascination as it disappeared into Brian’s body. He felt Brian push back and moved a second finger into him. He fucked him with his fingers then, slowly. Too slowly for Brian’s tastes and he knew that. When Brian was ready to be fucked he was ready to be FUCKED. Justin just wasn’t ready to FUCK him quite yet. He stroked him softly; cradling his balls with his other hand. Making sure his finger avoided Brian’s prostate almost entirely. Waiting 'til Brian was ready to beg. He wouldn’t make him do that. Not in this house, not with paper thin walls, but he would bring him to the edge. And he did.

Brian’s body was slick with sweat. Justin bit back a satisfied grin as he saw that Brian was biting the pillow. He moved himself into position and pushed his cock into him. Brian sighed in satisfaction and Justin bit his lip so hard he almost drew blood. They began to move together. Brian raising himself up further, pushing back harder. Justin pushing deeper until he was buried to the hilt. 

His hands slid up Brian’s chest, twisting his nipples, rolling them between his fingers. And then he felt Brian’s hand move to his thigh, slapping it lightly in their own practiced method of telling each other they were ready, more than close. And Justin worked it into overdrive, pulling almost entirely out of him before slamming home, stroking at just the right angle. Brian grunted his appreciation as he came and Justin’s orgasm hit him hard. His body convulsing against Brian’s. 

They both fell back to the mattress. Brian moved to his side a little. Justin settling behind him, still inside him. He kissed Brian’s neck. “That was…”

“Better than the fantasy?”

“Yeah.”

“Worth the wait?”

“Almost.”

“Almost?”

“Would it have killed you to let me top you then?”

“Probably. I came pretty close to dying a lot back then.”

“Really?”

“You know this Justin.”

“It’s nice to hear.”

Brian groaned. “I loved you before I said it. Happy?”

Justin smiled and playfully bit at Brian’s shoulder. “Yeah. I am.”

“Good. Now, we’ve gotta go back downstairs.”

“Do we?”

Brian shook his head. “No.”

Justin sighed. “Yeah, we do.” He pulled out slowly and tossed the condom towards the trashcan. “Shit.”

“What?”

“That’s not where the trash can is anymore.”

Brian laughed. “Shit.”

They sat up, looked at each other and laughed.

“You look freshly fucked.”

“So do you.”

“Well, it’s not like they don’t know.”

“And the shower’s tiny.”

Brian wall pulling on his shirt. He tossed Justin’s to him. “Fuck, you’re covered in paint.”

“I was working.”

“On the show?”

“Not sure.”

“We’ll all go to Babylon tonight.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not topping me in the VIP lounge.”

“Brian… there are some fantasies I KNOW I’ll never get.”

“Good.”

They went downstairs and ignored the stupid innuendos and single entendres. Brian mentioned the Babylon idea and they all agreed to meet there at eleven. Then Ted and Emmett left. Ben Michael and Hunter followed with a reminder to Brian to lock up before he left. Brian looked at the decimated living room meaningfully and Michael shrugged. “Just do it okay?”

Brian nodded and he and Justin left a few moments after they did. As Brian locked the door he gave Justin an odd look. “A home for wayward boys?”

Justin smiled. “You know it’s a good idea.”

Brian nodded. Justin took the keys. “You’re probably still too fucked up to drive.”

Brian shook his head. “This is why I don’t let you drive. It always leads to your wanting to drive.”

Justin rolled his eyes and adjusted the seat. Brian slid into the passenger seat.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

They returned to the loft to find Aaron and Lee mid argument.

“Do I want to know?”

Lee glared at Aaron. Aaron shook his head. “I don’t even want to know.”

Lee stalked off and slammed the guest room door behind him.

“See, doors are an important part of a good argument.” 

Brian looked at Justin and shook his head. I’m taking a shower. Justin nodded and stayed downstairs with Aaron.

“So what’s up?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Try me.”

“Long story.”

“Cut it out.”

“It’s personal.”

“Okay.”

“And not important.”

“Okay.”

“And he’s blowing things out of proportion.”

Justin went to the bar fridge and got two beers. He handed one to Aaron and counted backwards in his head. ‘Five, four, three, two…’

“He thinks that I’m lying.”

“About what?”

“I can’t find my prescription.”

Justin leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Are you lying?”

 

“You too?”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“So get it refilled.”

“He has the refill.”

“He’s still doling them out.”

“He’s…”

“Concerned?”

“Overreacting.”

“Okay.”

“It’s just as annoying when you do that as Brian.”

“Okay.”

“Grrr.”

“What else?”

“What what else?”

“There’s something else. I’ve seen the med fights, this isn’t one of them.”

“Nothing else.”

“Liar.”

“It’s personal.”

“So you said.”

“Can we talk about it later?”

“Sure. We’re all going to Babylon…well, me, Brian, Emmett, Ted, Michael, Ben, hell, I think even Hunter’s coming.”

“So?”

“So come with.”

“And Lee?”

“If he’s done queening out.”

Lee was getting a beer from the fridge. “I wasn’t queening out. Your brother is being an asshole.”

“Apparently, it runs in the family.”

“So did I lose my gig?”

“What gig?”

 

”Drawing Rage?”

“No. What makes you think you might lose it?”

“Brian and Michael all buddy buddy again. You and Michael speaking…”

“Still not interesting in drawing Rage, besides, you’ve been doing a better job than I was towards the end.”

“Really?”

“Really. And the new issues are selling.”

“Yeah.”

“So the gig is yours.”

“Thanks.”

“Not a gift, you earned it.”

“Oh, Matt called.”

“Anything I need to know?”

“Not sure, he asked you to call him.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow. I’m going upstairs. You two finish this. I’ll see you at Babylon, around eleven.”

They both nodded and Justin went upstairs to figure out what kind of mood Brian was in.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Brian’s POV

I can’t believe I let him… fuck, of course I can. I’d probably let him top me in the VIP lounge if he went about it the right way…but I won’t tell him that…he’s already got enough dangerous information on me… like… everything.

It’s annoying to live with someone who knows fucking everything about you. Jesus, I think he’s been taking notes. Whatever. Fuck. This is his shampoo. Great, now my hair’s going to smell like kiwi and where the hell is my…right, I forgot to pack my shampoo thought I had some here. We have to get back here more often.

We have to get the fuck away. Gus is okay. Mel and Lindsay are… whatever, they’re going to re-bond, if Lindsay moves back… well, I guess there are worse things. I’ll have to talk to her about that. Debbie. I can’t believe we trashed Debbie’s house… well, okay, yes I can. That house needed trashing…really needed it.

That house was an abomination to taste and… fuck, we trashed her house. Well, maybe the weed was laced with… okay; I really need to stop making excuses. I’ve always wanted to pull that wallpaper down, and then Michael talking about having a better mom than I did… made me angry, because he was right. There was something else though. I didn’t want Debbie to be my mother.

I didn’t. I don’t. The anger, that was about the truth and the truth is something I don’t talk to Michael about too often. Not about this anyway. I wanted my MOTHER to be my mother. She was once. A long time ago she was and then… well, I guess Jack beat it out of her. He beat a lot of things out of a lot of people but he beat the love and the joy out of her. I don’t know how or when it happened but it had to. She couldn’t just… I have to stop thinking about this. I have to think about something other than Joan’s turn towards god, and the church, and her… fuck, this hurts.

I thought I was done with this. I AM done with this. I’m just… done. So we’ll go to Babylon tonight. I’ll get wasted, better yet, I’ll get Justin wasted and then I can worry about him and possibly Aaron, and not have to worry about my stupid hypocritical judgmental mother and my cunt sister and how I’d prefer to have a dead mother like Debbie than a living one like Joan. 


	5. Chapter 5

  
  


* * *

## Keeping Touch

## Chapter Five   


* * *

Brian was dancing with Michael. It was nice to see him smile; even if was primarily because he was drunk. They laughed and Brian noticed out of the corner of his eye that Justin and Ben were laughing about something as well. 

Several songs later both Ben and Justin headed towards the dance floor and reclaimed their respective partners.

Justin was sweating. Brian leaned in to lick a bead of sweat that had rolled down his face. He kissed Justin’s temple. Justin smiled. 

“You’re wasted.”

Justin nodded and continued to dance. Brian moved with him. Justin’s hands rested on Brian’s hips pulling him forward with the slightest bit of pressure. They rocked together as Justin sighed into Brian’s ear. 

“You’re so fucking hot.”

Brian almost laughed. 

“You’re so fucking sad.”

Brian pulled his forehead away from Justin’s. “What?”

Justin shook his head, pretending he hadn’t said anything. Brian shrugged and pulled Justin towards the bar. The kid needed some water, and then some… anything in his mouth to keep him from talking. The babbling was about to start soon and if it was going to be some painfully insightful bullshit about his state of mind. Well… maybe he could get Justin into the VIP lounge and fill his mouth with something else. 

Justin drank the water and then downed Brian’s shot. The bartender poured another one. Justin reached for it but Brian took his wrist to stop him. Didn’t matter. Aaron’s hand snaked in from behind him and downed the shot. Brian turned his head to glare, and in doing so missed Justin using his free hand to down the refill the bartender had poured.

Brian released Justin’s hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. He turned his attention to Daniel, the bartender. “Cut me off.” Daniel nodded and stopped refilling the shot glass. Justin finished the beer that was sitting behind the shot glass and Aaron pouted. Lee pulled Aaron back to the dance floor and was apparently giving the lecture Brian had stopped even trying to give years ago. Aaron seemed as immune to it as Justin. 

Justin leaned in and licked along Brian’s neck. His hand was palming Brian’s cock over his black jeans. “Fuck me.”

Brian nodded and led Justin away, but felt the resistance as Justin stopped to get another beer. Brian shook his head and pulled a little harder. 

They were in the VIP lounge. Brian lit a joint and took a long inhale before handing it to Justin. Justin took the joint and pushed Brian back onto the chair in the corner. He straddled him then. “I want you inside me.”

Brian nodded and took another long toke before handing it back and moving his own hands towards Justin’s jeans. 

Justin moaned as Brian’s hand slid between his ass cheeks, pushing his jeans lower and spreading him apart at the same time. Justin dumped the joint into and empty glass with a few ice cubes melting at the bottom. Brian made a mental note to remind the staff to clear things up more quickly. That shouldn’t be there. Then his focus was pulled back. Justin’s hands were working the fly of his jeans. He lifted his hips and Justin pushed them down a little, freeing his cock. He moaned again. Brian leaned his head back and enjoyed the sound. 

Justin moved forward, ready to take Brian into him. Brian put a hand against his chest and caught Justin’s eye. He raised an eyebrow and handed Justin the condom wrapper. Justin frowned and Brian shook his head. Justin slid the condom onto Brian and moved on top of him.

Brian waited while Justin lowered himself slowly. His body was so warm. Brian’s hands were spread across Justin's chest. When Justin was seated fully he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it carelessly. Brian watched where it went so they could retrieve it later. It was hot. It was December. It would be cold when they left the club. 

Justin dropped his forehead onto Brian’s shoulder and began rocking on Brian’s lap. “Gonna make you feel good. Sooo good, Brian. I know you’re sad.” 

Brian remembered now why he’d planned on having Justin blow him. This shit would be harder to say around his cock.

“I know you loved Debbie. She died and that makes you think you should talk to your own mother, or that maybe you’re lucky she doesn’t talk to you, but that then again maybe that’s not really luck. I know you think that it’s your fault. You think if you were better at something, more worthwhile, or whatever she’d have loved you. She can’t. She couldn’t. I sucks and I think I’d like to kill her sometimes.”

Brian’s eyes opened. He was trying to ignore what Justin was saying and just concentrate on what Justin was doing, clenching and moving over his cock. Rocking onto his lap and stroking his hands through is hair, but through all that, the words… those fucking intuitive statements, in that deep, “oh my god, this feels so good” voice that Justin used, all were combining to lead Brian’s hands to Justin’s hair and pull his head in for a deep kiss.

Justin moaned into his mouth, as he kept moving over Brian’s cock, raising himself up on his knees and then lowering himself back down. He threw his head back and then rested it against Brian’s. “I want to kill her for making you feel like that. I want to kill anyone who does that to you. But mostly I just want you to accept that you’re worth loving and she can’t do that and if your own mom can’t do that, who can? So I know you’re sad, and I know you loved Debbie, like a mother, and I know you wanted your own mother to love you more, or enough, and I’m sorry she didn’t and I’m glad that I do. I love you MORE. Brian…. do I love you enough?”

Justin was gasping now as Brian’s hands grasped his hips and held him still while he thrust up into him. “Enough, Justin.”

“Enough talking or I love you enough?”

Brian didn’t have an answer so he twisted his hips and grasped Justin’s hard on in one hand his other hand staying on Justin’s hip. When Justin came, Brian’s orgasm followed closely and then Justin collapsed on top of him, hopefully forgetting the question.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Four days later Brian finished the meetings Ted had scheduled, and he and Justin got back in the car, this time with more luggage. Brian had hit a few more sales over the last few days. 

Aaron didn’t have to be back 'til the tenth of January, when classes started again and opted to stay in Pittsburgh for a couple more days, giving Lee time to talk to Michael face to face about some Rage stuff. Brian and Ben both thought it was probably a good idea for Michael to be distracted. Brian and Justin both thought it was a wonderful idea for the place in New York to be empty for a week before they all went back to the roommate situation. 

They talked about the show, and vacation plans and nothing in particular on the ride and were both happy to be out of Pittsburgh and back in New York. 

When they got back Justin called Martin, and the gallery. Brian called Cynthia and neither of them emerged from their work for hours. It was almost three when Justin crawled into bed. Brian was lying on his back, almost, but not quite, asleep.

“We’re leaving next week.”

“But…”

“After the show. It’s December 10th right?”

“Right.”

“We’re leaving the 11th, coming back on January eighth.

“Christmas and New Year’s.”

“Yeah. Too much family. We did Thanksgiving, we’re good for a year.”

“Sydney?”

Brian nodded. 

“How many client meetings do you have?”

Brian turned his head to look at Justin, exhaled the smoke and put out his cigarette. “Two.”

“So it’s an actual vacation?”

“Yeah. Which means…”

“I know… no working, just planning. But I’m bringing my laptop.”

“Good.”

“And you know…”

Brian rolled his eyes. “We’ve done this before. I know you’re bringing a suitcase full of art supplies.”

“Just…”

“Forgetting I know you?”

 

“No…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure?”

Justin nodded pulled the duvet over his shoulders. Brian’s settled himself and his arm automatically rested over Justin’s waist. They slept.

A week later Justin was at the gallery previewing the other work that would be in the show. He was meeting Matt for lunch in less than an hour but was entranced by one of the other paintings. His hand balled in a fist as the unreasonable surge of jealousy hit him. The brush strokes were perfect, the technique was flawless and there was nothing computer aided about it. It was raw, and passionate and real, and he’d bet that the person who created this didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, and didn’t have to stop every hour or so to give his hand a break. The feeling was too continuous, too unbroken. He turned away to head for lunch with Matt.

Lunch with Matt was pleasant. He and Jamison were moving in together. Justin figured it was probably a smart move. The conversation shifted and they caught up on what the rest of their friends were doing. Justin was surprised that of the ten or so people he’d really hung out with before Brian had moved to New York, most of them had left the city. 

He was filling Brian in on the information while they were going to bed that night. 

“Becca can’t stay here just because Matt doesn’t have room for her.”

“I already told Matt that.”

“Tell _her_ that.”

Justin nodded. Brian leaned over to kiss him. “So how was the other stuff at the gallery?”

Justin bit back the ridiculous jealousy he’d felt, or thought he had. Brian pulled back. “What?”

Justin shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Just…”

Brian pulled away from him. “What happened at the gallery?”

“It’s too stupid to talk about.”

“Probably. Do it anyway.”

“You ever see an ad campaign or hear abut a big account someone else nailed and think, ‘that should have been mine’?”

Brian nodded.

“It was like that. This other artist. I don’t know him, never met him, and this one piece, just…wow. Pissed me off.”

“Your stuff is amazing.”

“I know but… it’s… I still have to stop when my hand gets tired. I still have to rely on the computer more than I’d like, and I’m rusty, I spent so much fucking time doing corporate shit that I think I might have lost…”

“You haven’t lost anything.”

“I could have.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t.”

“But I’m still…”

“So you want to go back to Germany?”

“Huh?”

“The guy who can give you the cyber arm.”

“Yeah, um, no. I just want…”

“What?”

“I want to paint. I want to be left alone to just work. I don’t want all the bullshit that comes with…”

Brian pulled his lip into his mouth and Justin ran a hand through own hair. He shook his head. “Not you Brian, I don’t mean I don’t want you.”

“But the bullshit that comes with _me_.”

“No, that’s… I don’t want the bullshit that comes with ME.”

Brian almost laughed and Justin smiled. “I know, you feel the same way.”

Brian shook his head. “I’ve gotten used to the bullshit that comes with you. I just think it’s interesting to be on the other end of this conversation for once.”

“Well, it’s a pointless conversation from both ends.”

“You’re fucking talented.”

“I know.”

“So just have some faith in that.”

“I’m trying.”

“And when Lee and Aaron are off living in wedded bliss, you’ll have a lot more time to not deal with their bullshit.”

“Yeah.”

“Now, are you going to suck me off or do I have to fuck you?”

Justin smiled. “You have to fuck me. Sorry.”

Brian rolled on top of him and growled. “Sorry’s bullshit.”

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

Three days later Justin was smiling for the patrons of the gallery. Brian was standing near the bar. Justin was relieved. Brian hadn’t dismissed the other artist’s work as lame or unworthy of his jealousy. He had offered to buy the piece and have it destroyed if it would make Justin happy. Justin had laughed and he found himself scowling less at the large and perfect canvas that took up an entire wall. It didn’t seem to be mocking him anymore. 

The response to his work was positive and he was heading back to get himself a drink when he saw Ben and Michael step into the gallery. 

He walked towards them and was suddenly unsure as to how to greet them. Michael hugged him and he smiled. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Ben had a conference and you had a show and we thought we’d stop in and show our support.”

“Thank you.”

Brian walked over, greeting Ben and Michael warmly. “You two decided to leave the comfort of the suburbs to brave the big bad city?”

“We figured if we stopped here first you could point us towards the really big really bad parts of the city.” Michael raised and eyebrow and Brian smiled and looked at his watch. It was almost nine.

Give us an hour and we’ll join you.

Ben and Michael headed towards the bar and began to circulate, viewing and discussing the pieces on the far wall.

Brian slid an arm around Justin’s waist.

“I’m surprised they came.”

“You and Michael are friends.” 

“ _Were_ friends. Not sure now.”

“I think that’s all behind us.”

“I don’t know I said some pretty unforgivable shit.”

“Nothing’s unforgivable with Michael. Thought you knew that by now.”

“Well, with you two, yeah.”

Brian nodded. “With you too.”

Brian wandered off and Justin was looking at the piece he’d done in Pittsburgh after Debbie’s funeral. Michael walked up behind him. “Your stuff is good. But then, what do I know.”

“You know a lot Michael.”

“Is that…”?

“Yeah.”

Michael laughed. “It’s an image burned into all our brains forever.”

“It was really ugly wallpaper.”

“You made it something beautiful here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Ma would have been proud.”

Justin closed his eyes for a second. He was NOT tearing up. “You think?”

“I know. She was always proud of you. Hell, she gave you your own wall at the diner.”

“Yeah, she did.”

“She still followed your work. Even when…”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She still knew you’d be… you were… you ARE…”

“Thanks.”

Michael shook his head. “It’s just the truth. She loved you Justin.”

“I loved her too.” He was crying a little now.

“She knew that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. She just… sometimes she just went overboard. Hell, I get that from her… and my drag queen father.” Michael smiled a little. “But she never stopped believing in you, or you and Brian. She… she loved you both. She saw what none of us were willing to.”

Justin cocked his head in question.

“That you needed each other. All those stupid things I did. I mean even when you were still in high school; it was jealousy but not just because of you and Brian. It wasn’t that. It was… Ma loved you, and you let her.”

Justin didn’t know what to say. Michael continued.

“Brian was easy. He didn’t let anyone get close. He didn’t threaten anything. But you, ‘Sunshine’. You let her love you and I guess I was jealous.”

Justin smiled. “Sibling rivalry?”

“Maybe.”

“Christ our family is twisted.”

“Everyone’s is. Have you met my daughter, the sister of my best friend’s son, with no blood relation between the two of them? Or my son, the positive, ex gay hustler who’s currently working towards a Master’s in history?”

“History?”

“Don’t ask. I have no idea what you do with a master’s in history.”

“Um, teach?”

“Probably, but my point is that our family is twisted, like everyone else’s. But we _are_ family.”

“You really think Debbie would like this one?”

Michael nodded. 

Justin smiled. “It’s yours. Call it a gift.”

Michael smiled. “I said Ma would like it. I don’t want that thing anywhere near our house. Gives me nightmares.”

Justin laughed. “Maybe I’ll paint something for you someday.”

“You painted the walls, and JR’s room.”

Brian tapped them both on the shoulder. “Torrid?”

Justin shook his head. “Scenic, it’s nicer.”

Brian nodded and with one arm over Justin’s shoulder and one arm over Michael’s, they got Ben’s attention and headed out. 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

They were both completely wasted by the time they got back home. Brian staggered towards the kitchen. Justin made it halfway to the bedroom before he just sat down. “I can’t move.”

Brian reached out his hand and Justin took it. “We’ve got to be up in…” Brian glanced at his watch but the dial looked fuzzy. He looked towards the clock on the wall. “Soon” 

Justin laughed. “We’re packed and the car’s coming for us in…soon. We’ve got a twenty-one hour flight. No point in sleeping.”

Brian helped Justin to stand and handed him a bottle of water. “Any point in fucking?”

“There’s always a point to that.”

“Then why are you still wearing clothes?”

Justin tried to take his shirt of but forgot he had an open water bottle in his hand. “Look it’s like our first night. Water all over the floor.”

“Not exactly like our first night.”

Justin shrugged and handed the half empty water bottle to Brian while he peeled the wet fabric away from him arm. “Close enough.”

Brian headed towards the bedroom, Justin’s hands running under his shirt as they walked. When they stopped in front of the bed Justin’s hands became more aggressive, pulling at Brian’s shirt, while he pressed himself against Brian’s body.

Brian pushed him backwards on the bed and Justin looked up at him from under his lashes. Brian groaned. That look would be the death of him. No doubt. He efficiently removed his clothes and then assisted Justin with his pants, which meant that Justin was kind enough to lift his hips for a moment while Brian did the rest of the work. They were both naked and Justin sighed.

“This is what I’ve been waiting for all night.”

“Really, I thought you were waiting for the review of your show.”

Justin turned his head to look at the clock. “Two more hours 'til we get that. But every time something sold.”

“All your stuff sold.”

Justin nodded. “And every time something sold I got hard.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m sick.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

Brian’s body was pressed against Justin’s. His arms were on either side of his head; he arched his back and raised himself up to make eye contact. He shook his head. “Nothing sick about wanting your talent to be recognized.”

“Um… I think you might be a bad barometer of how much external validation is required to be healthy.”

“Probably. How bout I give you some internal validation.”

Justin groaned, then he laughed. “Okay.”

Brian's hands were sliding down his waist and Justin’s legs fell apart further. 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Brian’s POV

He’s so fucking gone. Or maybe he’s just playing me. He’s here; well, here enough to know what he’s doing. Then again, that may just be muscle memory at this point. But no. He’s looking up through his lashes, and his legs move under me, falling back against the mattress in a way that may not look practiced, but it fucking has to be. No one should be able to telegraph their desires that clearly with the angle of their knee and thigh. No one. He’s reaching up for me. Internal validation. Right. Fucking him. Right. We’ve got an hour and a half before the car service comes. He’ll come twice before that. And we’ll both sleep well on the plane. At least I hope we will. But for now. He wants something. And apparently I’m not moving quickly enough for him. He’s wriggling under me. And he’s on his belly now. Lifting up a little, his ass against my cock. His back flush against my chest. 

I pull away, well, not completely away. I can’t stop touching him. Can’t fucking stop. My hands run down his back. My palms fit onto his hips like we were custom made to fit together. He spreads his legs further and I’m stroking his cock. He’s hard, and wet and rocking into my hand as I hold it between his thighs. He’s asking. He’ll start asking more adamantly soon. I won’t last that long. I press inside him and he’s pushing back, trying to take all of me into him. It works. His ass is pressed against me and I’m balls deep inside him and there’s nothing that feels better. Nothing.

He’s rocking slowly. He’s tired, and drunk and mumbling something about external validation and I roll his nipple between my fingers. His back arches and drops his head onto the mattress. I crush my body against his. My mouth on his shoulder, against his neck, and then next to his ear. I whisper things that I guess are external validation but his body reacts as if he’s taken the words inside him as deeply as he’s taken my cock. 

He murmurs something that sounds like “you too” and I pull back, changing the rhythm and the angle. It takes him a moment to adjust but then he’s right there with me. He pushes himself back up onto his arms again and is forcing himself back against me with each stroke. 

I pull out completely. I need to see him. Suddenly I really NEED to see him. He rolls over and his ankles lock around my waist, his heels digging into my ass. He shifts his body as I sink more deeply into him and then I’m pressed against him. Every inch of us joined by sweat and love and want and need and yeah, maybe this is external validation. Maybe as long as he wants me like this, nothing can be that bad, but then again… maybe he’s just hot, and mine, and I’m going to fuck the ever loving shit out of him and because he thinks I’m hot and knows I’m his, he lets me, or wants me to, or whatever.

I have to got stop thinking about this.

He’s moving with me. His arms wrapped around my back, his hands sliding up into my hair and then back down again. If I stood up, he’d still be with me, still be attached. Like a barnacle, or a well tailored suit that drapes perfectly. I almost laugh. I’m well Taylored. He feels it and kisses me. He’ll ask me later what was so funny. I’m not sure if I’ll tell him. Probably. I end up telling him fucking everything anyway.

We’re heading off for a month away, together. But all I can think about right now is making him come, so I slide my hand between us. His hand meets me there and we move together, jerking him off while I fuck him. He comes. It floods between us and I’m still moving inside him. He tries to look at me but we’re too close. He can’t focus so instead he reaches his hands over his head and stretches his body. His ass clamps down hard against me and his legs shake as I move over his prostate again. He closes his eyes and the look of peace on his face is what undoes me. I come then too and he feels it. His legs hold me inside him for a few moments and then unwrap, falling apart and leaving me feeling cold and naked. His arms reach up and I fall against him. 

Cold and naked forgotten for warm and appreciated, and well, loved. I move my hands, tucking a few sweaty tendrils from his face. The smile isn’t smug, it’s just contended, and warm, and I kiss the corner of his mouth because I don’t want to disturb that smile.

He rolls onto his side, facing me, his arms still around me. “I love you Brian.”

I nod. He knows what I mean. We sleep. In a half hour we have to get up and shower but right now. I think maybe he just needs some time in my arms. Or maybe this is for me. Doesn’t matter. We have this, us, and I stay right here next to him because it’s where I want to be. And it’s hard to admit, I don’t know why, but it is. If I told him, he’d tell me a thousand reasons why, but at the end, he’d still tell me that it’s okay and then just let me hold him like this. Let me be held like this. So we’ll skip the chitchat and just be.

 

 


End file.
